ComedyTragedy: The Story of a Doomed Existence
by greenlinnet
Summary: Lily Evans never quite fit in with her picture-perfect family. When she is accepted to Hogwarts, she is thrown into a world of slimy Slytherins, arrogant Quidditch players, fickle friendships, and magic of more than one kind.
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
May fourteenth, 1960 was a stormy day, to say the least. The wind was strong to the point that it felt like the lashes of an invisible whip, and it beat upon the windows of the small clinic in Winchester with similar ferocity. Precipitation of unknown specification - it was a bizarre combination of hail, sleet, rain, and snow, pertaining to the least desirable aspects of each type of weather - crashed onto the ground as though it were far heavier than any worldly substance.  
  
Inside the small hospital clinic, a beautiful, red-haired woman cradled a small, plump baby girl. The child had a tuft of violently red hair on her head to match her mother's, fingers that wouldn't stop latching onto things, and lungs that gave everyone nearby a splitting headache. A mere four hours after the little girl was born, and after she had desisted her constant screaming, Lily's sister, Petunia, who had wished fervently for a sister at Hanukah, was holding the long-awaited baby. It was in these moments, as the four-year-old blonde child gazed for the first time into the face of her sister, that Lily's eyes turned green. Unlike, well, unlike normal children, Lily's eyes did not take months to turn slowly into their color. Instead, the moment that Petunia looked into Lily's eyes, the blue eyes that all Caucasian babies possess turned instantly to a bright, deep, emerald-colored green. Petunia had shrieked and dropped Lily on her head.  
  
Perhaps one who looked quickly back on the early lives of Lily and Petunia Evans would see this as the point where the relationship went sour. But that person would have to know the real history behind the Evanses to come to any conclusions.  
  
Seven years after the day she'd met her sister, Lily Evans sat on her knees next to an oak door, pressing her small ear to the wooden framework. Inside, she could hear occasional loud squeals and exclamations of delight from her sister and the three friends who had been invited over. Now, Lily wasn't the type of person who idolized and stalked people like Petunia - self-absorbed, squealing, girls with little brains - but, perhaps for that reason, Lily had never had any close friends. It felt like her last hope to follow Petunia when the older girl had friends over. Normally, Lily could quench this strange desire by deeply immersing herself in some book, but her mother had actually forcibly forbade her daughter from laying a hand on her treasured books. In Mrs. Evans' opinion, Lily spent far too much time emerged in the fantastical worlds of poetry and fantasy. She would be better off, well, better off like Petunia.  
  
It had been all that Lily could manage to convince her parents that, no, she didn't want to invite the peppy, squealing Amanda Blathers over. But in exchange for that small luxury, Mr. and Mrs. Evans had told Lily to socialize with Petunia and company. When the older girls had kicked Lily out (much to the latter's intense gratification), Lily's parents had told her to go right back into the room she and her sister shared. Lily knew that her parents would notice and grow angry if she were in any other part of the house, so she had resorted to sitting out in the hall, until either her sister let her in, or her parents passed by and commanded Lily to go inside.  
  
But a good forty minutes of staring at the burgundy carpet had finally grown tiring; there was only a certain amount of time that the seven-year- old could remain engrossed in her own thoughts, particularly at eleven- thirty at night, the evening after her skull's size felt as though it had diminished considerably from all the time she had spent with the 'Twitter Gang.' So Lily had resorted to attempting to listen to what was going on inside the room. She wasn't the slightest bit interested, but it was better than counting the flecks of brown in the otherwise red carpeting. As Lily sat there, unable to discern anything besides the occasional 'Oh my!', 'You didn't!', 'He never!', etc., her thoughts wandered back to Petunia and why the eleven-year-old hated her so much.  
  
Only vague incidents flew through her mind of times that had proven Petunia's spite, but Lily knew that, thinking back on it, she could find more, if she wanted. There was of course, the dropping-on-head incident, one that, to Lily's complete annoyance, simply had to be brought up every time she entered a conversation. Lily, for one, did not see the humor in being dropped on her own head. It wasn't her fault, and it hadn't lessened her brain capacity that much. At least Lily didn't think it had. She got poor marks in school because she 'didn't care' and 'didn't try'. This was balderdash, but Lily was the only one to think so. She understood the concepts very well, and read into very advanced arithmetic and sciences. But no one knew this. Lily was used to being compared to Petunia at her own expense, and she didn't want to give anyone any more reasons to find her inadequate. They had enough: Petunia was prettier, Petunia was 'smarter', Petunia was nicer, Petunia was more outgoing, Petunia was more popular.the list went on and on.  
  
Another instance Lily remembered was the time when she and Petunia had been helping their mother to bake latkes, the winter before Lily turned five. Well, it could be counted as helping if one twisted events a little: Petunia spent most of the time debating whether or not to get her hands 'starchy' from the potatoes. Lily, on the other hand, dove into the flour sack the moment they began and twirled happily around the kitchen, using the exotic movements of a made-up dance and leaving glittering trails of flour everywhere she stepped. Mrs. Evans had really been the only one who got much done. But any work going on had been completely interrupted when Petunia decided that she wouldn't mind helping a little, as long as she didn't have to touch anything with her bare hands. She had stepped forward and Lily, still twirling and not expecting her sister's decision, had crashed into her.  
  
It was like a scene out of one of the horrible sitcoms that Mrs. Evans watched so much: Before she slid across the floor, Petunia grasped the edge of the batter-bowl with her fingers and caused it to catapult across the room and land, perfectly, on her own head. Potatoes covered the eight-year- old from head to toe, and the powdery flour that Lily had been sprinkling everywhere seemed attracted magnetically to Petunia's form. Needless to say, that incident had gotten both Petunia and Mrs. Evans very angry with Lily, though Lily didn't understand how it was her fault and why it really mattered that much. She did accept that it was a tad unusual that the bowl had landed so perfectly on Petunia's head, despite the blonde girl's sliding movement across the floor, but Lily pushed it aside as mere coincidence.  
  
Once, when she was six, Lily had been curled in her favorite rocking chair, reading the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. Well, more like pretending to read; Lily loved looking at the words on a page even if she couldn't completely decipher their meaning. Strangely enough, for a girl who wound up loving books so much, she was very slow on mastering how one begins to interpret the words. Mr. Evans had brought the books back from America after a business trip there, and though they had originally been for Petunia, the older girl never read anything. Lily had 'abducted' (her phrase of the week; for a little girl she was very literate) the book from her sister's dusty shelves and was almost-reading over the first few chapters of 'Little House on the Prairie.' However, before she could get very far, an enraged blonde girl stomped into the room and snatched the book from Lily's hands, slamming it down on the stone hearth and hereby breaking the spine.  
  
"W-what did you do that for?" an equally infuriated Lily had half-yelled.  
  
"It's my book, It's my stuff, don't touch it!" Petunia had replied, her lengthy neck protruding even further than Lily had seen it do before, giving her a very ugly look that differed immensely from her 'youthful beauty.'  
  
Normally the younger sister would meekly give up the glory of 'winning' one of their little arguments to Petunia, but not that day, she wouldn't. Lily could very well remember how mad she'd been. The words on the book's pages were really making sense now, and the small girl wanted to keep reading them.  
  
"If I don't touch it, who will? You never read anything, Daddy just got you a book because he's ashamed at how stupid you are!"  
  
"I'm stupid? I'm stupid?! This coming from the six-year-old who can't even read, and sits there looking at the pictures to amuse herself and make herself think that she's smart?" Much as she hated the leisure, Petunia had learned to read when she was three. "I only don't read because I know how smart I am, and wish not to flaunt it in other people's faces!"  
  
"There aren't that many pictures in Little House On The Prairie! And at least I don't spend the day twittering madly with people at least as dumb, if not more, than myself! Books, even those I can't read, are far better than the company of a stupid, jealous sister, and her idiot, simpering friends!"  
  
At these words, Petunia was flabbergasted. She wasn't particularly bright, and from her point of view the redhead (a good three heads shorter than Petunia) was very intimidating and an excellent arguer. To top it off, Petunia was one of the few people that did know Lily was smart; she often forced her younger sister to do her simple homework.  
  
While the older girl muddled through confused thoughts, Lily enjoyed a few more moments of her sister's goldfish-like mouth, and then flounced away at the proper dramatic moment.  
  
Lily had thought that she had outdone herself, put Petunia in her place, but she wound up getting in trouble; Petunia had told Mr. and Mrs. Evans that Lily had walked in and slammed her book on the floor, not the other way around. Petunia also seemed to have derived some cock-and-bull story about Lily, insisting that the younger girl had done something to make Petunia unable to speak. No amount of explaining on Lily's part could get her out of the coming punishment. She tried saying, again and again, that she wished she could shut Petunia up occasionally, but unfortunately didn't possess the power. The other members of the Evans' household deemed Lily's story childish and dishonest. For some reason unfathomable to Lily, Petunia remained jealous and angry long past the duration of Lily's punishment. Lily tried to be good-natured toward her sister, but it was difficult when Petunia was, well, such an idiot! And she thought I was good at arguing? Lily remembered thinking as she underwent her punishment of helping to bake pie after pie in a hot, crowded kitchen, for her mother's catering service.  
  
Lily's thoughts were interrupted when the door she was leaning against flew open and she collapsed onto the ground. She'd been leaning against it without noticing, and when it opened inwards she fell back onto someone's feet.  
  
"LILY!" Came a shriek from behind the now-horizontal redhead. Lily sat up. "Look what you've done! LOOK AT IT!" A foot, presumably the one she had been laying on before, was thrust directly into Lily's face. Before she had lain back on it, the toes of this foot had been painted a deep, bluish, hunter green. Lily recognized it as a batch of the homemade polish that was the result of a mother-daughter activity that had happened the summer before. Lily had participated as well, but the nail polish was soon discovered to be most temperamental: it always got on carpets and never came off one's nails. Petunia, for some reason, loved it. She'd been scandalized at Lily's quick removal of her own and had spent a most unPetunia-like afternoon rooting through the trash bin, looking for it. However, her attempts had proven futile, so Petunia had gone back to using her own at every available chance.  
  
Now, however, Petunia's toenails were completely smeared up, and much of the polish was missing. Lily felt the back of her own scarlet hair and realized that this was where the rest of the polish was. The redhead looked back up at the still-screeching Petunia. By this time, however, Mrs. Evans had shown up, and she didn't look happy.  
  
"Lily, what have you been doing? Your father is trying to watch the evening news!" Mrs. Evans asked her youngest daughter.  
  
Lily was bored. Lily was tired. Lily had nail polish in her hair. Lily was not happy.  
  
"WHY DO YOU ALWAYS BLAME EVERYTHING ON ME? IT'S NOT MY FAULT! IT'S NEVER MY FAULT! PETUNIA KICKED ME OUT OF THE DAMN ROOM AND BECAUSE YOU'RE SUCH HORRIBLE PARENTS I KNEW YOU WOULD YELL AT ME IF I WENT ANYWHERE ELSE IN THE HOUSE. AND THEN PETUNIA OPENED THE DOOR, I FELL BACK, AND SHE PRACTICALLY HAD A SEIZURE BECAUSE HER BLOODY NAILS ARE RUINED!" Lily screamed at the top of her lungs.  
  
"Lily Jacqueline Evans! Where did you learn such language? I will not tolerate this in my house. If you were a little more agreeable, you would have been in the room, having fun, and none of this would've happened. Go to your ro-go to the attic."  
  
"It's-it's not my fault," Lily said softly. As she walked away, she couldn't restrain the sobs that poured from her chest, portraying a most unusual depiction of the normally courageous, independent girl. She broke into a run and climbed up the rickety staircase to the attic.  
  
Collapsing on an ancient trunk, Lily cried her heart out. The small girl never cried; not after being a baby who wailed so much. But now she cried for everything. Her parents treating her so poorly, Petunia's constant abuse, and the dislike everyone at school felt for her. Her soul had been eaten at for so long without her realizing it that the final blow caused her to break down completely. By the time Lily had gotten control of herself, her vocal chords were sore and her small nightgown was very damp. Vainly trying to wring this out, Lily glanced around the attic. She almost reached her hand up to the light switch, but the moon was so beautiful and gave off so much light that she decided against it. Instead, Lily glanced down at the trunk she was sitting on. It was made of polished wood and faded red crushed velvet, and was very large. It could easily have fit Lily inside, along with a good number of her favorite books. The lock was so ancient and rusted that it was barely hanging on. When Lily's pale, moonlit fingers brushed against it, the handle disintegrated completely. Lily bent down, the light of adventure kindling in her heart, and ran her fingers over the barely visible gold letters. If she squinted carefully enough, she could see that they spelled out Jacqueline Monique Evans, the name of her great-grandmother. Lily took a deep breath, overcome with the excitement of finding some family treasure, and pushed the lid open.  
  
And treasure she found. Not gold from foreign places, not jewels of unknown origin, not deeds to wealthy property. No, this was the kind of treasure that Lily desired above all else: books. Ancient, well kept, leather and cloth covered books. There was Jane Eyre, Treasure Island, Our Town, Crime and Punishment, The Importance of Being Earnest, a whole collection of Jane Austin books, numerous pieces by Dickens, at least a half-dozen Shakespeare plays, and many others. There were easily twenty-five or thirty books, nearly all age-old classics. Some came from as early as Jacqueline Monique's childhood, while others were as new as J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. And upon opening each one, Lily found signatures of the authors. She held Moby Dick to her chest, breathing in the wonderful, slightly musty scent that pervaded both the books and the chest. After she had reveled in the beauty of the volumes she'd found, Lily glanced into the trunk one more time. At the edges of the maroon cushioning, small leather pouches rose up the sides of the chest. Inside these were all sorts of amazing things: feather quills from all sorts of birds (cardinal, swallow, snowy owl), ink in colors like green, scarlet, and blue, and yellowed parchment. Some of this was blank, but the rest had beautiful, loopy cursive writing and was gathered into a bundle. Dates occasionally adorned this, and though Lily couldn't read French, she could tell it was a diary.  
  
A smile to rival the tears Lily had been experiencing before spread across her face. This was beautiful. There actually was someone in her family she could relate to - many someones, for these books were from at least three different generations. She did belong, in some strange twisted way, to this family. Clearly Jacqueline Monique had loved reading, just like Lily did, for many of the signatures in the books were addressed to her.  
  
Lily did not know how long she sat there, cradling the French diary, and staring up at the gigantic moon. Eventually, it occurred to her that someone might think to come looking for her. Not, of course, because they cared where she was, but because they thought she might do something to the attic. After piling all of Jacqueline's things into the trunk, Lily resolutely pushed it towards a back wall, behind the giant portrait of a ladle her crazy uncle Howard had painted. She winced slightly at the scratching noises the trunk made on the floor, but the few times that she did pause revealed that no one in the rest of the house was stirring. Brushing the dust from her hands, Lily walked downstairs. She rather wanted to sleep in the attic; unlike many such places the windows gave it great openness, but she wanted a blanket or something else that might warm the cold floor. The only blankets in the attic were moth-infested and smelled of her Great-aunt Charlimae.  
  
On her way back from the hall closet, Lily paused slightly at the family room door; the flickering light she could see within looked as though they were coming from a television, but she knew everyone was asleep. Much as it annoyed her that she noticed as much, Lily knew that Petunia breathed differently (in a less forced, high-pitched kind of way) when she was sleeping.  
  
Lily set down the blankets at the doorway and stepped inside. What she saw froze her heart even more than the way her parents treated her. Petunia was sitting, curled up in a ball with her head in Mr. Evans's lap, on the couch between him and Mrs. Evans. All three were asleep. Mr. Evans had his arm draped gently over his wife and daughter, while Mrs. Evans's hand rested on Petunia's blonde hair. They made the picture of a perfect family. Mr. Evans's blonde hair and horse-like jaw was identical to his daughter's, and Mrs. Evans bore the body structure of her daughter: both had long necks and very skinny limbs. Lily glanced down at herself. The only similarity she bore to her parents was her mother's crimson-colored hair; no one knew where her green eyes had come from. Lily secretly hoped that she had inherited them from Jacqueline Monique. Thinking about her appearance reminded Lily of the nail polish encounter. She reached back and felt the sticky substance. It had completely encrusted a few strands of her hair; it seemed as though it were permanent.  
  
After switching the television to off, Lily glanced once more at the sadly perfect picture the rest of her family made, then went off to sleep in the attic, alone. 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One: A Magical Discovery  
  
The passing of four long years brought little change to the Evans household. The largest difference was that fifteen-year-old Petunia had lost much of her childhood beauty. But no one noticed the change; Petunia's appearance now matched her personality. How she stayed popular was a complete mystery to Lily.  
  
As for the younger Evans daughter, she also had changed considerably from her seven-year-old self. She had learned more languages, for one: French to understand Jacqueline Monique's diary, Hebrew in early preparation for her bat mitzvah in two years. Upon reading Jacqueline's diary, Lily had begun to idolize the young woman. The diary was written when Jacqueline was seventeen, before she had married Lily's great-grandfather. In trying to be more like Jacqueline, Lily had converted to being a vegetarian, (How can you eat something that once thought for itself?) grown more outspoken, read more, and wrote more. Lily had to cut her hair, after the unfortunate nail polish fiasco, but she was working like mad to make it grow again. She dreamt of the day it would be down to her knees like Jacqueline's.  
  
Her family, teachers, and peers continued to be disgusted with the opinionated girl, whose hair was as fiery as her temper. But Lily didn't mind. In fact, she liked it better this way.  
  
But not all the effects of Lily's slightly altered personality were good ones, especially according to the people who experienced Lily's attitude. The July she was eleven, six weeks before she would be starting secondary school, Lily's mother pulled her aside.  
  
"Lily?"  
  
"Yes, Mum?" Lily was too shocked to be rude to her mother, who never came into the attic.  
  
"Can I talk to you?"  
  
"You are right now, unless I'm very much mistaken. Though perhaps not, now that you mention it. A dissimilar reality could actually be the correct reality, and in that reality we might not be conversing with one another. Were that the circumstance, I still would not know, because I have no motivation to believe that you are capable of carrying on a conversation with me."  
  
Mrs. Evans blinked. Lily turned back to the rising sun.  
  
"Um.what?"  
  
"I fail to see why it is compulsory that I elucidate my logic and philosophies to someone who evidently cannot comprehend them."  
  
Mrs. Evans blinked again.  
  
Lily smiled inwardly at her mother's confusion. It rather frightened her, but Lily found strange confidence, strange satisfaction, at seeing her mother suffer. After a few moments passed, Lily turned to see the woman staring uncomfortably at her.  
  
"Did you need something?"  
  
"Lily Jacqueline Evans, your rude and uncontrollable tongue is exactly what we need to discuss. Your father, sister, and I have grown very annoyed with all of your antics. They are disrespectful, they are unnecessary, and we are sick of them. We have tried to punish you, we have tried to reason with you, but everything has failed. So that's why, come September, we're sending you to St. Catherine's Institute for Unreasonably Discourteous and Improper Girls."  
  
"What?" Lily spluttered. This was horrible, this was awful, this was terrible news. Lily had been counting on going to Fairview, the small private school that Petunia had attended, for it was well renowned for having both a fabulous library and very good teachers. And now she'd miss out on that experience, as well as the experience to meet someone who cared about something other than the direct angle your hair must be pinned up to qualify for a 'bob.'(Lily had actually witnessed Petunia and a friend having a blazing row about this very subject.)  
  
"Mum-you-you can't do this to me!" Lily wailed.  
  
"I can and I will. Lily Jacqueline Evans, you must be taught that your behavior is unacceptable!" She rapped the doorframe sharply with her knuckles for each syllable of 'unacceptable'. After she'd finished her little drumming escapade, she turned and strode as dignified as she could down the rickety stairs.  
  
"You don't have to call me by my entire name whenever you speak to me! I'm your own daughter!" Lily shouted after her before collapsing onto the small cot that had been her tenth birthday present. "Not that you'd know it." she mumbled softly, before burrowing her head into the pillow.  
  
Lily had screamed, pleaded, cried, cursed, yelled, and done just about everything in her power to try to convince her family not to send her to 'impending doom', as she called it, but nothing worked. Lily was willing to do just about anything to convince her parents not to send her to someplace like St. Catherine's. Little did she know that the one tiny opportunity was headed her way at that very moment.  
  
A tense silence pervaded the dinner table two nights after Mrs. Evans had told Lily what was happening. It was the first meal Lily had come down to eat with the family. As Lily was still absolutely furious at the lot of them, she kept looking up from her minestrone and glaring forcefully at her parents and Petunia. Whenever Lily so much as laid an eye on Petunia, the older girl would make frightened squeaks and manage to upset something on the table. Out of the corner of her eye, Lily could see how much Mrs. Evans wanted to send Lily to her room, but she didn't because, angry as she was at her daughter, she didn't want to be detested indefinitely. So Mrs. Evans, in turn, glared at the shakers of salt and other condiments that continued to upend themselves in Petunia's vicinity.  
  
It took a very long time to get through the soup; it would have felt long even if it hadn't lasted for the time that it did. As Lily mopped up the remaining soup with a piece of bread, she could see a muscle going in Mrs. Evans cheek, undoubtedly caused by the condiments all over the floor.  
  
Lily chewed the soup-covered bread and stood up, slowly, pointedly not asking to be excused, but before she could retreat to the attic, a sight through the open kitchen window caused her to pause and stare. Slowly noticing the direction of Lily's gaze and the frozen attitude of the girl, the rest of the family glanced in the same direction Lily was. Mr. Evans still had his spoon in hand, Mrs. Evans gripped her tea cup incredibly hard, Petunia's eyes had doubled in size and she seemed too frightened to scream, and Lily stood with her arm extended, about to push in her chair. As the Evanses stood, transfixed, a large barn owl that Lily recognized from one of her grandfather's birding books sailed in and landed on Lily's arm. Each head turned to stare at Lily, though no other part of their body moved. Lily herself glanced nervously down at the bird on her forearm and gave a small inward gasp. The owl was shaking its leg at her, in what might have been some absurd jig - if owls could do jigs - except for the fact that there was a letter of yellowed parchment attached to it. The owl seemed to want it off.  
  
Trembling slightly, Lily reached down with her spare hand and untied the letter. The owl nipped her fingers lightly, though it didn't hurt, and sailed off into the night. Lily dropped the letter onto the table and sank down into her seat once more. The Evans' stared at the letter, which had landed address-down. The strange seal on the back was made up of a badger, a lion, a serpent, and an eagle, all surrounding a large H. In the few seconds they stared at it, Lily wondered vaguely what H could stand for. Hampshire? That was where they lived, certainly, but since when had Hampshire adopted such an unusual seal? However, before Lily could contemplate on the matter any further, her father reached forward and turned the envelope over so that the whole table could see what it said. Written on the front in emerald green ink were the words:  
  
Miss L. Evans The Kitchen Table, Northwest Seat 12 Magdalen Hill Winchester, Hampshire England  
  
Lily read this a couple of times, to be sure she understood right. Glancing around the table, she realized that she was in the northwest seat. There could be no mistake. This letter was for her. She peered in her father's direction, wondering vaguely whether she should open it. Instead of the annoyed, ashamed expression that normally adorned his countenance when seeing her, he seemed curious and interested. The expression on her mother's face was similar; she appeared to even have forgotten about the salt on the table, which was a big deal, for her. Petunia seemed terrified that the letter would explode, but then again, this was Petunia.  
  
In a movement that everyone in the kitchen watched with immense interest, Lily reached across the table and picked up the envelope, turning it once more so that the seal was visible. As Lily slit the envelope, her mother let out an audible gasp. Lily might have been inclined to laugh, but she was just as excited so felt it would be hypocritical. She had also never received so much attention that wasn't negative before. It was a nice feeling.  
  
Inside the envelope were two sheets of paper. Trying to exercise self- control over the hands that wanted to rip out this mysterious letter, she pulled the top one out first and peered down upon the writing there:  
  
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
  
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)  
  
Dear Miss Evans, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hogwarts is a most esteemed school at which the students are taught the magical arts.  
  
We understand that all members of your family are not of magical power (Muggles), so we ask that, do you decide to attend Hogwarts, you also attend a short seminar on July 27th at 2 pm about the magical world. Parents are welcome. The seminar is located at the Leaky Cauldron Pub in London. As long as you keep the name of this area in mind, you will find the pub easily.  
  
Please find enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment.  
  
Term begins on September 1.  
  
Yours Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress  
  
Lily stared at the parchment, wondering, hoping, wishing that this place truly existed. But even if it were, she realized, heart sinking sadly, she was destined to spend the rest of her time at St. Catherine's. She breathed a deep, world-weary sigh and chanced a look at her parents. Both seemed simply itching to see the letter; after all, how many people get mail delivered to them by an owl?  
  
Lily resolutely handed her father the parchment, a tiny fragment of her mind still hoping fervently that he would let her go. She was too preoccupied to even be amused at the way her mother had dashed around the table to see what was going on. However, Petunia's bony neck peering over Mr. Evans's shoulder was enough to make Lily crack a smile. As much as Petunia hated things out of the unexpected, she was incredibly nosy.  
  
While the other members of her family poured over the letter, Lily drew out the next slip of paper within. This was, apparently, the list of necessary books and equipment the first letter had opened. Across the top was the same imposing title that the letter had:  
  
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
  
UNIFORM: First-year students will require: Three sets of plain black work robes One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings) Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.  
  
COURSE BOOKS:  
  
All first-year students should have a copy of the following volumes:  
  
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade One) by Miranda Goshawk  
  
Wizarding Events in Early History by Clayton Batten  
  
Transfiguration for the Young by Frank Gadders  
  
Common Wizarding Plants and Organisms for Basic Potions by Fungillus Garter  
  
Basic Wizarding Potions by Fungillus Garter  
  
Danger Where You Least Expect it: Rudimentary Defense Skills by Herman Horsepepper  
  
Fifteen Hundred Magical Creatures; a guide to survival by Leslie Hasting  
  
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling  
  
OTHER EQUIPMENT  
  
1 wand 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size two) 1 set crystal or glass phials 1 telescope 1 [I]Miniature Guide to the Night Skies[/I], by Orion Moonstone (optional) 1 set scales  
  
Students may bring one of the following: an owl, cat, or toad  
  
Broomsticks must be left at home until second year.  
  
It didn't sound very sane to Lily, but she had spent so much of her life immersed in fantasy novels that she half believed in this anyway. And, she would welcome virtually anything that might rescue her from impending doom.  
  
Lily looked up at her parents, to see if they had finished reading the letter yet. Both had, apparently; they were looking at their youngest daughter as though they had never really seen anything like her. Petunia was nowhere to be sight, which made sense, Lily supposed; even her nosy nature would be quelled by seeing a title like "HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY." Lily waited for her parents to say something, but silence continued to encompass the atmosphere of the kitchen.  
  
"Mum, dad, I'd really like to go," Lily spoke softly after a few more moments of unbearable silence passed. "I-I understand that I haven't been.cooperative.but I can change that. I'll do my best - which I must admit, I haven't been doing - to be a good daughter: if I want to, I can get good grades, be nicer to people, anything you want - if you'll just please, please, please let me go." She breathed heavily after speaking, laced her fingers together, and gazed hopefully at her parents.  
  
"Oh, sweetie -" her father began. Lily was amazed to hear his tone of voice; that was how he spoke to Petunia, not to Lily. Lily's heart rose a little. Before her father could continue, however, Mrs. Evans let out an indecipherable noise, across between a scream and a gasp, and ran around the edge of the table to wrap her arms tightly around Lily.  
  
"I'm-I'm so sorry," she said, drawing away from her daughter. "I can't believe I was about to send you off to that horrible place, when you could instead go - go here! A witch - oh honey, we're ever so proud!" She exchanged a look with her husband, who stood up as well.  
  
"Of course you can go!" he announced. "A witch...oh this is too amazing! The twenty-seventh, did they say? We have a week, then," he finished briskly, smiling down at Lily.  
  
"Oh.oh, thank you so much!" Lily told them. "You won't regret it, I'll do better than my best at-at Hogwarts." She gave each of them a hug and walked out of the kitchen, pausing only to say an additional thank you before she turned up the stairs.  
  
For the rest of the week, Lily was content to simply read and occasionally engage in conversations with her parents. The only noticeable difference between Lily's life before and after the letter had arrived was that Lily's parents loved talking to her. Before Lily knew it, it was eleven o'clock on the morning of Tuesday, the 27th. She and Petunia piled into the back of the car and they were on their way to London.  
  
As they entered the city, Lily closed The Hobbit and reminded her parents of what the letter had said: keep in mind where they were going, The Leaky Cauldron, and they would find it. Remarkably, this worked: later on Mr. Evans told his family of the odd feeling that passed over him, as though his mind weren't his own, and helped him to reach the parking space outside of a large bookstore to the right of the small, grungy, Leaky Cauldron.  
  
Lily pointed out the shabby pub to her family; for some strange reason, they had a lot of trouble focusing on its being there, particularly Petunia. Once everyone had seen the pub and understood that it was there, Lily checked her back pocket to make sure that she still had the letter, took a deep breath, and strode through the door. The pub was no more extravagant within than it was on the outside. All that was good to be said about it was that it was large, moderately clean, and the bartender, despite rather crude dental health, appeared kind.  
  
As the door shut behind Petunia, the small bell at its summit jingling slightly, the bartender glanced up and saw Lily and her family standing awkwardly, not sure what to do next. Lily opened her mouth to ask where the seminar was, but the bartender spoke first.  
  
"Ah, you must be another first-year!" He exclaimed. "The seminar for muggle- born students is right down this hall," He pointed at a room behind a closed door at the end of the corridor. "The instructor should already be there." He smiled encouragingly, and waved as Lily started off across the rough wooden floor, followed rather more closely than was necessary by her parents, and less closely than was polite by Petunia.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Lily pushed the door open and walked inside. For someone who had been expecting a place of deep mystery or obvious magic, Lily was greatly disappointed. The room was fairly large and sun-filled by the great windows on the sides. A good number of tables were arranged, all chairs facing a tall, thin-lipped woman. The only sign of the unusual purpose of the meeting was the woman herself: she was wearing long, black robes, and a hat was pinned over the tight bun that was her hair.  
  
She looked up as Lily and her family walked in, and nodded at Lily in what was probably supposed to be an encouraging gesture, though it was ruined by the fact that she wasn't smiling.  
  
"Welcome to Hogwarts' Introductory Seminar. Please cross your name off the list so that we know that you have decided to attend our school," she pointed to the table in the corner, in front of which the only other family in the room was gathered.  
  
While they waited for the family in front to finish crossing off the names of their twin daughters, Lily and her parents observed the scene through the windows. Each pane of glass was almost the full length of the walls, but Lily wished they were bigger. Through each one was an incredibly detailed, moving sight. Each view was so different that Lily was sure they couldn't be actual windows; even in the magical world, she doubted that the bottom of the ocean could be found next to a bazaar from ancient Egypt.  
  
Lily's parents were just as fascinated by the panoramas as their daughter was. Mr. Evans kept excitedly pointing out the moving figures. He seemed particularly amazed by a miniature scene of numerous people on broomsticks playing some kind of sport. There were two colors of their robes, so Lily assumed that there were two teams. Three players from each team were tossing a red soccer ball-like ball to each other, trying to get it into one of the three opposing goals. A single player from each team guarded the team's goals. Two members of each team were carrying short clubs that they used to hit the independently moving black balls toward members of the opposite team. These cannonball-like objects seemed intent on unseating the players. And lastly, one person on each team sailed high above their teammates. Lily wondered what they were doing for a few moments, then saw the two go into a spectacular dive for a tiny, speedy gold ball.  
  
A loud, forced cough from behind Mr. Evans brought the family back to reality: they were now holding up the sizable line. Smiling apologetically at the people behind her, Lily found her name and drew a trembling line across it. The line's unsteady aspect portrayed Lily's frazzled nerves quite well.  
  
A last glance at the windows was all that Lily allowed herself before following her parents to join Petunia at the table in the far back. Petunia had clearly chosen this spot because it was as far away as possible from the witch in the front of the room. Feeling slightly annoyed at her sister for choosing such obviously inconvenient seating, particularly when so many better tables were available, Lily tried her best to observe the windows further. She had so little luck that she finally gave up and instead spent the remaining minutes watching the other nervous first-years. Finally, the witch in the front of the room cleared her throat, stood up, and began to speak.  
  
"Hello, and welcome. My name is Professor McGonagall. I am the Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am pleased to see that so many people have turned out for our seminar; it's nice that most people are sane enough to not throw away their letter the moment they get it." There were nervous titters through the surrounding families, and Petunia, on Lily's left, gave a derisive snort. Clearly, she didn't think that someone who wore robes and a witch's hat in public was anywhere near being sane.  
  
"First, to assure the less convinced families, I have prepared a short demonstration of magic," she pulled out her wand and waved it at the sign- in sheet. The small leaflet of papers rose quite unaided and sailed over to Professor McGonagall, who caught them deftly. Nearly everyone in the room 'oohed.' But McGonagall wasn't done: next she turned the papers into a parakeet and back, turned them purple, shrank them to a quarter of their original size, and finally, she turned the language into Arabic.  
  
Merely for her own amusement, Lily chanced a glance at Petunia. The blonde was staring, openmouthed, at Professor McGonagall, mouthing wordlessly and managing to glare as forcefully as possible at the witch. Snorting inwardly, Lily turned back to see the papers disappear with a poof of orange smoke.  
  
"Now that we have cleared up that this isn't some kind of nonsense-" Professor McGonagall smiled at the looks on people's faces, ranging from surprised to awed to alarmed. "-let me continue by saying that you should be most proud that your child has qualified to attend Hogwarts. As your letter mentioned, our school is very prestigious. Unlike in the non-magical world, we accept everyone we can, but let me say to you right now that it will be hard work. Students must be serious at getting a magical education. It isn't all wand-waving and Quidditch playing." A few people looked very confused at this word. McGonagall quickly indicated the pane of window Lily and her parents had been watching, then continued to speak.  
  
"In order to attend Hogwarts, students must have all that is on the list we sent out with your acceptance letters. Don't worry," she continued as some people looked nervous. A few families had begun muttering to one another, including a boy in front of Lily, who murmured to his mother that he didn't know they were supposed to bring the letter. "Don't worry, we have spare first-year lists for those who did not think to bring their own."  
  
"As those of you who read the letters know, the objects on the list could hardly be found in downtown London. The wizarding world has an alternative shopping center, comprised of various marketplaces. For buying school materials, Hogwarts recommends Diagon Alley. The shops along this street have everything that you could possibly need in your days at Hogwarts, and the shopkeepers are known to be most helpful if you may have any questions. We have small maps of the alleyway, pointing out the most helpful stores." The witch pointed to the table that had held the sign-up sheet. "As for the belongings you wish to bring to school, Hogwarts asks that all students have a trunk of some kind."  
  
"As for the school year itself, the Hogwarts Express leaves from King's Cross, Platform Nine and Three Quarters, on September first at eleven in the morning. We have tickets here for every student taking the train. In order to get onto the platform, which is entirely impenetrable to Muggles - nonmagic folk," she explained to the numerous confused faces. "In order to get onto the platform, one must simply walk through the wall between platforms nine and ten. This wall is solid only to Mugg - nonmagic people," she corrected herself just in time, "and to those who are frightened of colliding with it. Students must remember not to be afraid that they'll crash into the wall, or nasty things can happen." She didn't go into any details. "Nonmagic parents may enter, but only when accompanied by their magical children. It is essential that no one sees you entering the platform."  
  
"Now, are there any questions?" She surveyed the soon-to-be students, again smiling slightly at the mixtures of expressions that adorned their faces. At these words, a good number of hands went up. "Yes? You, in the back?" Professor McGonagall pointed to the boy sitting in front of Lily, who had muttered to his mother earlier.  
  
"This whole wizarding thing sounds right magical," he spoke loudly, in a strong Irish accent. "But how do we know that we actually are wizards? That we actually do have the power to do stuff like what you showed?"  
  
"Ah, I'm glad you asked," Professor McGonagall smiled at him approvingly. "It is often a matter of doubt between students who come from Mug - non- magical backgrounds." She peered at the boy from across the room, examining him closely through her spectacles. "Have you ever made something unusual happen? Something out of the ordinary that you couldn't explain, when you were angry or feeling some other magnified emotion? Witches and wizards, young and old, have been known to use magic when they are feeling particularly distressed, often unknowingly."  
  
At these words, a new bout of murmurs broke out across the hall. Thinking back, Lily thought of the bowl landing so perfectly on her sister's head. It was the only real sign of any magic she'd done - unless she counted having the wonderful talent of making people mad at herself without trying. Trying desperately to think of something else to prove that she was magic, Lily remembered Petunia's complaints of Lily making her unable to speak, back when they were younger. Could that, perhaps, be another show of Lily's true magical self?  
  
Lily shook her mind free of those thoughts and turned back to see Professor McGonagall call on another unsure student, who asked about the word 'Muggle.' Lily only half paid attention as McGonagall explained that the word 'Muggle' is the wizarding reference to non-magical people.  
  
"Where's Diagon Alley?" the next girl asked bluntly.  
  
"Diagon Alley is located right behind this very pub. You must go into the small courtyard and use your wand to tap the brick three up and two across from the trashcan. You obviously cannot do that until you get a wand - also available in Diagon Alley - but any witch or wizard would be glad to help you."  
  
"I will answer one final question, then let you get on your way. I would be happy to answer or discuss any other concerns that you have; I will be here all afternoon, so feel free to come back from Diagon Alley if you can think of anything that I've missed." McGonagall paused briefly, then pointed at one of the twin girls Lily's family had stood behind earlier. "Yes?"  
  
"I was just wondering.you said that we needed a trunk, right? Well, where are we supposed to get those? How big do they need to be?"  
  
"Just like anything else necessary for Hogwarts, trunks can be found in Diagon Alley. There is a standard school size that we prefer our students stick to; however, if you find it absolutely necessary, you may go one size smaller or larger."  
  
"Now, if that is all, the seminar has come to an end. Any pamphlets, maps, train tickets, or spare letter information you might need are on this table." She waved her wand carelessly and stacks of brightly colored papers appeared. "Wait," she held up her hand to prevent a few people from rising. "Let me just say, welcome to Hogwarts!"  
  
She stepped back and walked over to a corner where she and any who had questions would be more isolated from the rest of the families present. A number of people ambushed her, but Lily had no more reservations. Instead, the redhead walked briskly up to the table that held information and used her small height to reach through the jostling parents. Finding the map and ticket she had been looking for, Lily turned and joined her parents at the doorway, following them out into the small courtyard McGonagall had described. Unsure of what to do next, the family waited uncomfortably, noticing that the only people who joined them in the courtyard were from the other wandless families from the Hogwarts seminar.  
  
But they didn't have to wait long; just as the courtyard was becoming very full of first-year families, the innkeeper came out and did them all the favor of tapping the brick McGonagall had mentioned. A small hole appeared where the innkeeper's wand had been. It grew larger and larger until it was a giant archway into a bustling shopping center. Trying to calm her nerves and excitement, Lily took a deep breath and stepped forward. 


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Past the Brick Wall  
  
Lily's family followed her into the commotion of the alleyway. They consulted the map and determined that they needed to find Gringotts, the bank where they would exchange money. As they walked, Petunia's mouth spread open into a silent scream that suggested she'd seen something really horrible. As for Lily, her mouth fell open as well.but not in a horrorstruck way. She opened her eyes as wide as she could and attempted to take everything in.  
  
The alleyway was a cobblestone street just wide enough for a few human- pulled carts to pass on each side. Other than these, the alley was filled with pedestrians. But Lily found a fascination with these people that she had never felt before. Most were wearing robes that dropped to their feet, rather like graduation robes, and tall pointed hats. And there were wizards and witches of every age; from stooping old men that walked along at the pace of snails, grumbling to themselves, to the little girl who had gotten a hold of her mother's wand and was now rising steadily toward the sky, screaming her head off. Groups of teenagers with large bags wandered through the streets with their friends, probably buying school supplies. Middle-aged witches sat outside Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor, gossiping happily in the sun. Parents dragged their children away from the window display of Quality Quidditch supplies, where they were ogling a silver broomstick that had a giant sign over it, reading IThe Quicksilver/I. A bearded man outside of an apothecary yelled to the crowd "Today only: powdered tortoise shell at 3 sickles an ounce!" Immediately, a whole crowd of package-laid women attacked the barrel in front of him; the man was forced to dive out of the way.  
  
Lily couldn't help it; a huge grin spread over her features. This was Iamazing/I. Nothing she'd ever seen before rivaled the sight she viewed now. She was so amazed that she nearly passed by the wizarding bank, an astounding feat, as the bank was twice the size of any other shop and a very bright, luminescent white color. Lily grabbed her mother's arm and pointed at the entrance, for her parents had nearly missed seeing the bank as well.  
  
At the top of the stairs, they met the bank's bronze doors. Lily reached for the handle, anxious to get inside, but before she had so much as touched it, a bloodcurdling scream came from behind her. A scream that sounded very much like-  
  
Petunia was walking backwards as quickly as she could, screeching and gesturing madly. Lily whipped her head back towards the doors, alarmed at what would make Petunia panic so obviously. Then she saw it. A creature ten inches shorter than Lily, with dark skin and a rigidly pointed beard, stood there, looking rather annoyed at Petunia's outburst. Perhaps he didn't understand why Petunia had panicked, but Lily knew, immediately. This was a goblin.  
  
The redhead turned back to see Petunia, still shrieking madly, lose her balance and tumble down the marble stairs. Mrs. Evans joined in the screaming of her daughter, shrieking even louder when Petunia's outburst suddenly stopped. Mr. and Mrs. Evans raced down the stairs to Petunia, who was by now surrounded by quite a large crowd. Lily followed them too, nervous at how mad her parents might be with the magical world after this had happened.  
  
She felt rather ashamed to admit it, but she wasn't really that worried about Petunia; the older girl had always been so mean to her, and anyways, Petunia was near indestructible. By the time Lily had reached the innermost circle of the crowd, Petunia was being supported and led away by her mother. Lily could see a trickle of blood running down the side of Petunia's head. An unbidden shiver of fear ran down Lily's spine.  
  
"It's alright, sweetie, she's fine, just a little dazed," Mr. Evans slightly breathless voice came from behind Lily. "Your mother is taking her back to the Leaky Cauldron so that she can rest. Those - goblins - gave your sister quite a fright. But she gave me the money, so shall we continue onward?"  
  
"Yes, let's," Lily answered. She allowed herself one more glance at her mother's retreating back, then led her father up the stairs to where a few irritated goblins stood.  
  
"So - so sorry!" Mr. Evans called as he and his daughter passed through both doors.  
  
But when father and daughter reached the innards of Gringotts bank, Petunia was very nearly driven out of their minds. Scores of wizards and witches stood in a long line through the center of the giant marble building, underneath a few unlit chandeliers and giant skylights. Surrounding two and a half sides of the hall were a large number of goblins, who acted as tellers. Some were doing such bank-like things as exchanging currencies, but the majority were instead weighing large jewels, or stacking gold coins the size of car doors, or counting tiny, luminescent floating crystals. Even more goblins were leading people in and out of doors on the last wall.  
  
Swiveling her head in every direction, Lily followed her father to the end of the line. It moved fairly quickly for a line of its size, but, as it was, it took Lily and Mr. Evans a good half-hour to reach a free goblin. Finally, a particularly long-bearded one called them over.  
  
"Hello, Mr..Mr. Goblin, sir?" Mr. Evans spoke nervously. Lily fought the urge to sigh with exasperation and roll her eyes; she didn't want the good relationship with her parents to end. Meanwhile, the goblin gazed at Mr. Evans as though he had never seen anything quite like him.  
  
"My name," he adjusted the very obvious nametag on his scarlet uniform, "is Schinlock. What can I do for you today?"  
  
"I would like to-" Mr. Evans glanced down at his daughter. "I would like to start an account for my daughter and exchange some British money for.for the wizarding equivalent."  
  
"That can be arranged. How much money would you like in the account?"  
  
"Um." Mr. Evans peered into his wife's large purse, pulling out a thick wallet. With one more glance at Lily, who smiled hopefully, Mr. Evans drew out some money. "300 pounds," he said proudly. Lily dropped the pamphlets she'd been holding.  
  
"Dad.Ithree hundred pounds/I?? Oh, thank you Iso much/I! I - I can't believe it! Th-Ithree hundred/I pounds! That's just.wonderful!" Lily gushed, all composure forgotten. She threw her arms around her father's waist and hugged him hard.  
  
"Lily, honey, your mother and I have discussed it, and we both feel so horrible for not treating you in the manner you deserve. This is rather like an apology, from the both of us," he smiled fondly down at his youngest daughter. A loud cough interrupted Lily's conversation with her father; the goblin was growing impatient.  
  
"All right, 300 pounds," the goblin picked up the money Lily's father had set on the table and counted it carefully. After a few moments had passed and the goblin had found Mr. Evans' money adequate, he continued, "I will have someone take you down to the deposit-vaults, where we have a system for these very situations."  
  
Lily turned back and hugged her father once more. When she pulled away, a new goblin was standing next to her.  
  
"Done?" he asked with irritation.  
  
"Yes," Lily smiled up at her father.  
  
"All right then, follow me."  
  
The goblin led them into one of the doors on the other side of the vast room. Through the door, a roughly cut stone tunnel plummeted downward. The strange tracks on the floor apparently were for transportation, because the moment after Lily's goblin guide had whistled, a tiny cart had whisked in front of the surprised Mr. Evans.  
  
"All right, in yeh go," the goblin spoke harshly.  
  
The cart ride was rather like one of the old, broken down roller coasters Lily had been on at the fair, except there was nothing holding her in. She stared at the various natural wonders in the underground caves they passed, from glittering crystals on the walls to the soft rustling of bat wings hundreds of meters above them. When they passed through a cavern particularly full of stalactites and stalagmites, Lily remembered how her father had told her to memorize the difference between the two when she had studied elementary geology in school: IMites go up, tights come down./I Lily giggled nervously.  
  
A few wild turns later, the rush of air on Lily's face drew lighter and lighter until they had stopped entirely. Along the walls were various small doors, each with a number over the top. Their goblin guide leapt out of the cart with enviable agility and strode over a few meters until he was stopped in front of door number 358.  
  
"Everything should be in order by now; we've given them ten minutes," the goblin said. Lily presumed he was speaking more to himself than to Lily, as she had no idea what he was referring to. She jumped out of the cart with a lot less grace than the goblin. Mr. Evans followed.  
  
"All right. Miss Evans," he indicated that Lily step forward. "Please come here."  
  
He stepped aside so that Lily could stand right in front of the door. Lily followed his indication, feeling slightly silly: she could feel both Mr. Evans and the goblin staring fixedly at her back. She felt as though she ought to be doing something.  
  
"Now, when I finish counting to three, I want you to say your full name loudly and clearly. One.two.three!"  
  
"Lily Jacqueline Evans!" Lily called out, feeling rather silly talking to a door.  
  
For a moment nothing happened, then a loud grating noise was heard. The noise continued until a small drawer had materialized out of the wall on the left side of the door. At a nod from the goblin, Lily reached forward and pulled it open. A tiny golden key fell into her palm, then the drawer disintegrated as though it had never been. Lily presumed that the key went to the vault; it was just the right size and proportion. What confused her is the process she had to go through to get it. She turned and looked at the goblin questioningly.  
  
"Ah, that's just our licensing procedure. So that, do you lose the key, you are still able to get into your vault. Alright, Schinlock should have finished by now." When Lily didn't react to these words, he continued, "Go on, open it!"  
  
Lily stepped forward and pushed the key into the keyhole that hadn't been there a moment before. The lock clicked and the small door swung open to reveal mountains of coins, colored silver, bronze, and gold. Lily stepped even closer, with the intention of putting some of the money into a bag, when she realized something: she didn't know how much money each coin was worth. Seeming to sense her confusion, Mr. Evans stepped up behind her and unfurled the map Lily had left in the cart.  
  
"Here," he said, holding the map opposite side up so that Lily could see a small chart on the back:  
  
Gold Galleons: largest denomination: 2.93 pounds Silver Sickles: 17 to a Galleon: 0.17 pounds  
  
Bronze Knuts: 29 to a Sickle: was/I going to Hogwarts now; there was no way her parents would change their mind after she already bought supplies. Still grinning to herself, the eleven-year-old pushed the door open and stepped inside.  
  
For a moment, Lily thought that she had walked into an aviary; the second the door had closed, twittering had broke out all around her. Slowly, Lily registered that the brightly colored items whirling through her vision were arms, not feathers. The feather-like arms ushered a bemused redhead through a doorway of very pink beads. At this point, Lily managed to get away from them by means of standing on a stool in the room's center. Once away from the headache-inducing twittering, Lily surveyed the area she was now in.  
  
It was a very pink room; the curtains were pink, the furniture was pink, the walls were pink, the carpet was pink, and the candles were pink. Standing in front of a bubblegum-colored loveseat were three young women, each wearing some very bright version of the black robes hanging around the room. Lily did not have very much more time to think on it, though, because the blonde stepped forward and walked around Lily, surveying the short girl's features.  
  
"Hogwarts, are you?" She asked in a deep, musical voice that didn't suit her at all. When Lily nodded, the teenager continued: "So're we; Madam Malkin offers summer jobs to seventh years. Hope to see you in my own house! Gryffindor's the greatest."  
  
"Whatever, Sally," spoke a girl with very strait, dark brown hair that Lily envied immediately; she'd never quite loved her own curly locks. The strait- haired girl picked up a set of black robes that were hanging on the window and held them up to Lily, snorting when she saw that they were a good two feet longer than Lily's full height. "See, nice thing about Ravenclaw is that we don't care if you're less - vertically inclined. All that matters is the smarts."  
  
"And you think Gryffindor cares how tall you are?" The blonde, who had been called Sally, had dropped the tape measure she was holding and was now drawn to her full height in front of the Ravenclaw. "You don't have to be big to be brave!"  
  
"Sally, Morgana, stop fighting! Friendship and loyalty are what's the most important, everyone in Hufflepuff knows that!" The final girl, who had pale brown hair and very weak, light blue eyes, spoke up. She moved forward and pulled Sally away from Morgana, then turned back to face the bewildered Lily.  
  
"Sorry about them," she pointed her thumb over her shoulder at the two other girls. "They don't realize that they're just houses, nothing more." She rolled her eyes in exasperation, oblivious to the fact that the eyes of the other two were imitating her own mobile eyeballs.  
  
"Yes, don't mind us," the girl named Sally grinned at Lily. "We know it's such a crime to Icare/I about something!" she ducked to avoid the pair of scissors the Hufflepuff had hurled in her direction. "We apologize for taking up so much of your time.back to the fitting?"  
  
Even if the girls hadn't had their little argument, Lily still would have taken forever in the robes shop: the three girls, despite their competitive aura, were apparently great friends. They spent more time gossiping than fitting Lily for robes, which also meant that their attention was divided. When Lily left the shop with a package containing new robes, cloak, and hat, she sported a few nasty pinpricks where one of the girls' attention had wandered. But Lily couldn't stay in a bad mood for long: she was simply too elated at going to Hogwarts, and hearing the seventh-years discuss it had done nothing to damper the eleven-year-old's excitement. By the time she reached her father, who was lounging outside the cauldron shop with one of the large pot-like structures in front of him, Lily was grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"What took you so long?" Mr. Evans asked as his daughter lobbed her new packages into the cauldron to join the potion ingredients her father had bought.  
  
"Oh.long line, inattentive shopkeepers," Lily told him evasively, too fascinated with the passing cart display of giant, pulsating, orange spheres to answer with any more information.  
  
"Very well," her father said. "Now, it's nearly five now, and I really want to know what happened to your sister. You wouldn't mind terribly if I went to check up on her, would you, Lily dear? That's it.I'll meet you outside of the large bookstore by the entrance, once I get back and you've finished your shopping." And with that he strode off into the rather diminished crowds.  
  
"Yes, I kind of do mind!" Lily called after his retreating back, fully aware that her father couldn't hear her. A moment later, however, she felt incredibly selfish; for how her parents had originally treated her, this was a vast improvement, and her father had sacrificed the whole afternoon for her.  
  
Sighing and shaking her head at her own annoying habit of pessimism, Lily headed off to the astrology store marked on McGonagall's map. Chiron's Healing was a small shop with dark walls and glittering specks of light in the air. Some odd perfume pervaded the place, making Lily feel sleepy and dreamy. She couldn't help it; she leaned back against a bookshelf and closed her eyes. She felt an odd vision come before her eyes just before they closed; it looked rather like the centaurs she had seen in fantasy picture books. Then she passed out.  
  
The next thing Lily knew, she was lying on top of a scratchy rug and someone was pouring thick, gooey liquid onto her hands, which were being supported a few inches above her stomach.  
  
"What - are you - get off me!" Lily tried to pull her hands free, but with no success. She opened her eyes to see stars in front of them. It took her a moment to realize that these Iweren't/I the stars that one sees when dizzy, these were actual stars. Grasping this concept, Lily remembered the small shop and the sleepy feeling that had come over her. She sat up.  
  
"Mum, she's awake!" The person who had been pouring who-knows-what onto Lily called loudly.  
  
"Um.excuse me, but might I ask what is going on?" Lily said.  
  
"Oh, yes, dear - I must apologize for that," a new voice spoke from behind Lily, who twisted around to see who was talking. "Anyone who has been here before knows never to stand in the doorway; conflicting energies cause one to lose consciousness. But you are feeling better now?"  
  
"Yes, quite so. Would you be willing to tell me how long I've been cataleptic? I'm in somewhat of a hurry and I still need to get the rest of my school supplies."  
  
"Cataleptic?"  
  
"Mum, it means unconscious," the first voice spoke with exasperation, moving forward to wipe off whatever she had put on Lily's hands.  
  
"Ah, yes, of course. Quite an impressive vocabulary, my dear," the person to whom the second voice belonged had moved into the light of a purple candle. Lily rolled her eyes; she'd learned that word three years ago. "It hasn't been more than thirty minutes. Ah, but let me introduce myself: I am Gemini Windstorm, and this is my daughter Aquarius," she continued. "It's rather a tradition in our family to be named after astrological signs. So, anyway, I figured you were a Hogwarts student, so I got you a nice telescope, with mercury in the metal to make it stronger. And did you want one of the guides to the night sky? We've got a nice sale."  
  
"Sure," Lily consented, standing up. She was impatient to leave; the perfume in the shop was making her dizzy and she was feeling tired: this trip to Diagon Alley was taking a very long time. She paid the two women and took the package they offered. However, just as Lily's hand brushed Aquarius', the latter let out a gasp and sank to her knees, breathing heavily and looking at Lily as though the redhead were particularly dangerous.  
  
"Oh! Er, I'm sorry! Are you all right?" Lily reached forward to offer a hand to the fallen girl, but Aquarius backed away.  
  
"Shush, dear," Mrs. Windstorm held up a hand to prevent Lily from coming any closer. "I know the signs.Aquarius, honey, you had a vision, am I correct?" The young woman nodded tremulously.  
  
Her mother nodded in return, as though she had known this all along, and stepped away from the nervous Aquarius. When she returned to where she had been standing before, she was carrying a box full of glittering powder. Lily was reminded forcefully of the 'stars' that permeated the shop's interior. Mrs. Windstorm flicked some of this into her daughter's face, which caused Aquarius to sneeze a good seven times in a row.  
  
"Thanks, mum," she spoke softly, drawing her shawl around her frail body. She backed away even further from Lily, and sank into a barely visible rocking chair.  
  
"What did you see?" Mrs. Moonstone prompted anxiously after silence reigned for a number of minutes.  
  
"I - you -" she pointed a long fingernail at Lily. "You Imustn't/I go to Hogwarts!"  
  
"WHAT?" Lily practically shouted. She Ihad/I to go to Hogwarts, it was the one place where she knew she belonged. She told this to Aquarius, along with a few good curses and unnecessary information. "I've Igot/I to go! And Iyou can't stop me/I!" She finished, her breath coming in short gasps. Both women looked rather taken aback at Lily's words, but Aquarius seemed to tighten her tenacity.  
  
"IYou mustn't go/I!" She insisted. "If - if you go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Iyou will die/I! You will graduate, yes, but just a few years after this, Iyou will die/I!"  
  
"This is insane. Mad, utterly mad," Lily muttered. "I don't have time for this, I've got to go get the rest of my supplies. For IHogwarts/I. Thank you for your help, but I don't appreciate your trying to fool me with some spurious 'vision.' I bid you good day."  
  
She picked up her bundle and cauldron, which had been dropped on the floor, and with a last, contemptuous glance and mother and daughter, both who were staring at her with utmost horror, Lily turned and stormed out the door. Just before it closed, Aquarius' strained voice floated through.  
  
"You're making a big mistake! You'll see, foolish girl! You just wait, you'll -" Lily slammed the door extra hard and turned up the street, very far from a good mood now.  
  
Still incredibly annoyed, Lily paused in a corner and checked through the cauldron to see what she still needed. The only item left to get was a wand. ILuckily/I, Lily thought. She didn't have anything against the wizarding world; on the contrary, it fascinated her, but her experiences so far in Diagon Alley were far from wonderful.  
  
Trying to calm her aggravated spirit, Lily pushed open the door to Ollivander's wand shop (Maker of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.) and stepped inside. The shop was very tiny. Easily half the size of her attic at home, the only parts of the shop that wasn't small were the walls. They stretched up for Iages/I, Lily wasn't even sure where shelves ended and ceiling began. Other than these shelves, which resembled bookshelves if one ignored the long, thin packages stacked on them, a very tiny black desk chair sat in the middle of the room. Unsure of anything else to do, Lily walked over to it and was about to take a seat, when -  
  
"Hello," said a soft, creepy voice. Lily's heart skipped several beats, and she set down her cauldron with more force than she had meant to, causing most of the bundles within to scatter across the floor.  
  
"Oops - sorry -" Lily muttered as she darted around, gathering up her items. Face now matching her hair, she turned back to see an elderly man watching her with an expression across between amused and calculating. Sensing the burning sensation recede, Lily felt instead a cold shiver run up and down her spine. Mr. Ollivander's eyes were the same pale blue of the Hufflepuff she'd met in Madam Malkin's, but were far colder. Lily drew her cardigan tighter around her body. She waited a few more minutes for Mr. Ollivander to speak; when he didn't, she broke the silence with nervous ramblings.  
  
"Um.hello. My name is Lily Evans.I - I need to buy a wand," Lily told him.  
  
"Yes, of course, why else would you be here." He didn't phrase it like a question, so Lily refrained from answering.  
  
He surveyed Lily for a few moments, then drew a tape measure out of his pocket.  
  
"You're wand arm?"  
  
"I'm - er, my right hand is dominant," Lily guessed at what he might be speaking of; Mr. Ollivander seemed satisfied, for he began to measure this.  
  
"Twenty-three inches." the man muttered to himself as he darted around the shelves, selecting different boxes.  
  
Lily watched him, but when he disappeared into the gloom above, in search of a very out-of-the-way wand, Lily noticed that the tape measure had not stopped computing the lengths of her various limbs. It was now measuring the extent of her left index fingernail, then the span of the top of her ear, then the distance between two knuckles on her right hand.  
  
"That is more than enough," Mr. Ollivander called as he proceeded back to normal elevation. The tape measure sailed lazily back into the wizard's left pocket. "Here, take this one - seven inches, birch, phoen - he stopped mid-sentence and grabbed from Lily's hand the wand she had been aimlessly waving. "No, no, of course not.how about this one: ash, eleven inches, dragon heartstring, rigid -" but as soon as he had finished describing the wand, he snatched it out of her hand.  
  
Lily tried more and more wands, only partially listening to the shopkeeper's commentary. Sometimes Mr. Ollivander seized the wand right away; sometimes he let Lily wave it around foolishly for a few moments before reclaiming it.  
  
"Ah - how about this one?" he suggested after Lily's arm was starting to grow tired, not to mention her patience. "How could I forget, I got this one particularly for you!" he held out the dustiest box yet. Lily recognized it as the one he had climbed so high to obtain.  
  
"Yes, yes, try it - ten and a quarter inches, swishy, willow and unicorn hair -" Mr. Ollivander stopped speaking as Lily waved it around. But this time it felt different from all those other wands. Somehow, the eleven-year- old Iknew/I what to do: she twirled the wand with an abrupt wrist- flicking movement, and the next minute sparks flew out of its end. The color forcefully reminded Lily of the hunter-green nail polish she'd gotten in her hair a few years prior.  
  
"Perfect, perfect, I thought so - the wand may choose the wizard, but the shopkeeper knows what to select!" Cackling in a very devious and slightly frightening way, Mr. Ollivander re-wrapped the wand, accepted Lily's seven galleons, ushered the girl out, and began closing up the shop.  
  
Surprised, Lily glanced down at her watch - and nearly dropped her cauldron again. It was already six-forty, and she Istill/I had to buy her schoolbooks! Hoping that her parents wouldn't be too angry, Lily hurried up the now nearly empty, darkening streets. She felt slightly surprised that shops would close down so early, but it was a Tuesday evening, so Lily supposed people had work in the mornings. The only shops still open were a few small restaurants. As Lily walked past a Magical Menagerie, one of the few shops still open, she noticed that someone was trying to get out the door and making a lot of noise about it.  
  
"Get - out - of here! Stupid owl, you cause nothing but trouble!" a middle- aged woman was waving a disheveled broomstick at a bird similar to the animal who had delivered Lily's Hogwarts letter. "You should be grateful that I saved you from the abusive family you used to live with! But no, you Icontinue/I to cause as much trouble as you can! Get out, get going, now! Shoo!" She waved the broomstick at him again, but this time in hit the owl hard in the wing, and he fluttered with much less alacrity. Lily felt a surge of anger for the menagerie owner.  
  
"Excuse me, but what are you doing?" Lily asked angrily. "You shouldn't treat animals like that!"  
  
"What's that? Who's there? Listen here, whoever you are, you don't know this owl like I do! Now, ISHOO/I!" She screeched, hitting the owl once more. The owl fell to the ground just as the irritable witch slammed the door shut.  
  
Lily didn't really know much about owls, but she could tell by the way that the owl was lying motionless on the ground that he was severely hurt. She checked her watch one more time, aware that she really couldn't afford to stop, but she couldn't help it. Lily put her cauldron on the ground and reached down to pick up the owl, feeling its limbs inexpertly to see if anything were obviously wrong. The way that the owl was lying to motionless in her arms worried her.  
  
The only thing that Lily's amateur fingers could find was that the wings seemed unnaturally stiff. When she touched the left one, the formerly still owl let out a very feeble, barely comprehensible, hoot of pain. Lily glanced around the now-empty alleyway. Maybe her mother would be able to help. Mrs. Evans' parents had a farm, and the woman knew a good amount of animal care.  
  
Lily picked up her cauldron carefully, set the owl inside, and walked as briskly as she could without upsetting the injured bird of prey.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like ages, Lily had reached the outside of the large 'Flourish and Blots,' which, luckily, was still open. Outside it, wringing her hands nervously and shivering in the brisk night air, was Lily's mother.  
  
"Oh, ILily/I!" she squealed when her youngest daughter came into view. "I was ever so worried! What - what have you got there?" she gasped when she saw the partially conscious owl. "What - what happened? Dear, are you all right? Where did you get this owl?"  
  
Lily quickly explained what had happened, feeling grateful that her mother had been waiting for her, as opposed to Mr. Evans. Try as she might to be the perfect trophy wife for her lawyer husband, Lily knew that her mother loved animals of all kinds, and really missed the farm on which she had grown up. It wouldn't be too difficult to convince Mrs. Evans that the owl needed a home. And Lily was right: her mother spent a good five minutes fawning over the owl.  
  
"See, that horrible woman's broom handle hit him here, and here," Mrs. Evans pointed out slight indentations in the owl's wings. "He isn't hurt worse than having sprained wings, but he's been dazed badly. Ooh, look! Eeylops Owl Emporium is still open! Lily, why don't I nip over there, get some medication and a cage for the owl, and you can get your school books."  
  
"Sounds good to me," Lily consented. She felt better than she had since the peculiar astrology shop; her annoyance had dissipated with concern for the owl.  
  
Mrs. Evans accepted a few of the coins from Lily's purse before turning in the direction of the rustling, hooting, Eeylops. As for Lily, she hoisted the now considerably heavy cauldron into her arms and walked into the warmth of the bookstore.  
  
The single clerk, the only person still on duty, was enjoying a plate of some bizarre, disgusting-looking seafood. Trying to block out the smell of this, Lily coughed to get the man's attention.  
  
"Ah, a late customer!" the clerk announced after finally noticing Lily. "First year?" he asked after noticing the cauldron Lily had placed upon the ground. "We have pre-organized stacks of first year books -" he retrieved a very large, heavy looking pile of glossy books, and dumped them into Lily's cauldron.  
  
"Oh, thanks," Lily told him. "Would you mind if I had a quick look around before paying?"  
  
"No, that's fine. Feel free to look around; unlike the other shops, IFlourish and Blots/I is proud to stay open until eight o'clock every night!" he told Lily proudly.  
  
Occasionally glancing out of the display windows to see if her mother had returned, Lily browsed the shelves. Though her purse was considerably lighter than it had been in the early afternoon, she did have enough excess money to buy some extra reading material. IHogwarts, a History/I immediately drew her attention; Lily knew little of the school and desperately wanted to find out more. After about fifteen minutes, Lily paid the clerk for all of her schoolbooks and three additional ones: IAstrology for the Stargazer/I, IHogwarts, a History/I, and IA Study of Ancient Wizarding Runes/I.  
  
The schoolbooks were by far Lily's most expensive endeavor, but the clerk told her (with the tentacles of whatever he was devouring sticking out of his mouth and swinging wildly as he spoke) that he would give her a 'late- night discount', which she gratefully accepted.  
  
Mrs. Evans was already present when Lily closed the door of the bookstore behind her. She held up a cage containing the now-sleeping owl, and explained that the clerk had given her some tonic to put on the owl's wounds. Straining from the weight of all of their packages and all of their exhaustion, mother and daughter headed slowly out of the alleyway. 


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Scramble to the Train  
  
Through the courtyard, into the pub, it all seemed very dreamlike, now. Lily only half-listened as Mrs. Evans said something about going to get the rest of the family. Lily's mother disappeared up the staircase, only to return moments later, followed by Mr. Evans and Petunia. Though still exhausted to the point she could barely think, Lily couldn't help but notice that Petunia's head was Ivery/I heavily bandaged. Shaking her head at Petunia's idiocy - honestly, who was stupid enough to walk backwards toward a set of stairs? - Lily followed her family, cauldron supported on her left hip.  
  
The moment that Lily's head touched the back of the car seat, she was asleep. The next thing she knew, her father was carrying her up the stairs to the attic. Once on her cot, Lily rolled over and closed her eyes, content to lie in wait for the soon-approaching unconsciousness. However, before Lily's mind could slip into oblivion, the sleepy redhead heard what sounded like a loud explosion.  
  
"Petunia! I'm getting sick of this! Your mother and I don't have the energy to fawn over you! If you want food, you can get it yourself. You are fully capable! And for goodness's sake, Istop/I moaning!" There was the loud slam of the door, and the noises of Mr. Evans stomping toward his bedroom. A low wailing began in the room he had left.  
  
Lily rolled over a second time, a brilliant smile penetrating her sleepy countenance. Conveniently failing to remember about the creepy prediction in the astrology shop, Lily felt as though everything were perfect. Petunia wasn't being spoiled anymore, Mr. and Mrs. Evans were proud of Lily, Inot/I Petunia, and most of all, Lily was a witch! The happy redhead drifted off to sleep, and the smile on her face did not waver for the next month.  
  
The month of August did not pass quickly, nor was it interminably long; Lily had stopped playing stupid and life was much better for it. Lily wondered vaguely why she had ever tried so hard not to do well; she couldn't imagine ever wanting to give up this feeling of worthiness. She and her father would play long-winded games of chess in which they would discuss the fantasy and science fiction books her father enjoyed so much, while Lily and her mother spent long hours in the kitchen, Lily learning some of their family's age-old recipes. There was only one person in the Evans household who wasn't perfectly content, and that was Petunia.  
  
Completely disgusted with the fact that everyone in her vicinity didn't want to lavish her every desire, Petunia had grown sulky and depressed. When Lily helped Mrs. Evans to cook for the catering service, Petunia would stand just on the other side of the kitchen's swinging door, trying to hear what was going on within. After Lily and her mother had crashed into Petunia a few times each, unable to see through the solid kitchen door, Mrs. Evans had yelled at Petunia to go away and stop getting underfoot, much to Lily's great satisfaction. And when Lily and her father read in the same room, or played chess, Petunia would often come into the area, sit down, and pick up a book, which she would pretend to read. Petunia's 'reading' was hardly inconspicuous, as she never picked up a book, but to damper the subtlety even more, the book was often upside-down. Though Lily stayed very content through the weeks before Hogwarts, she, like both of her parents, was thoroughly annoyed with Petunia.  
  
By the time Lily's final evening in Winchester arrived, she felt a very mixed array of emotions. She was almost weak with joy at the prospect of going to Hogwarts, but the past month had been the best of her life. It was a wonderful feeling to know that she would miss her parents, rather than be glad to be rid of them, as she'd originally thought she would feel.  
  
That evening, Mrs. Evans insisted that Lily go out of the kitchen. Though she 'found it a wonderful experience to cook with her youngest daughter,' she wanted Lily's good-bye dinner to be special. When seven o'clock came, Mrs. Evans called the rest of the family out onto the patio. Lily, who had been a few minutes convincing herself to put down her copy of IMacbeth/I, was the final family member out onto the patio. When she stepped outside, her never-ending smile increased. Mrs. Evans had hung a large banner from the house to the large oak tree, on which the words 'IWe'll miss you, Lily/I' were sewn. Beneath this, a table was set with Lily's favorite foods: the Indian dish Saag Paneer, which Lily had been introduced to - and loved - a few years back, all sorts of pies and flan, pasta in numerous different sauces, steaming garlic bread, and a giant garden salad were just a few of the delicious-looking items set out. Sitting at the tables were Lily's parents, Petunia, Mr. Evans' parents, a number of Petunia's friends, and some of the people Lily knew and didn't hate from school. When Lily walked out onto the brick pattern of the terrace, everyone clapped loudly. Blushing furiously, for she hadn't expected so many people to come, Lily looked down at the skirt of her simple black dress.  
  
"Lily! Lily, over here!" a girl who Lily recognized as Renée Smith waved at the embarrassed redhead.  
  
"One moment, Renée, sweetie," Mrs. Evans called, walking over to the self- conscious Lily. "Do you like it?" she asked in an undertone. "Don't worry about the - er - Muggles -" she giggled at the usage of the wizarding term, "We told them you were going off to boarding school in France, and -"  
  
"Oh, mum, I love it!" Lily cut her off, throwing her arms around her mother's body.  
  
Not only had Mrs. Evans gone to a lot of trouble to arrange this, she had also been considerate enough to only invite those classmates of Lily's whom her daughter could stand being around. Giving her mother one last grin, Lily joined Renée and some other students at their small table.  
  
The night was great fun: it was the first time Lily could remember enjoying time spent with her peers. By the time everyone had left, Renée and a few others had promised to give Mrs. Evans letters to send to Lily, so that they could stay in touch. Wanting to get lots of sleep before the big day tomorrow, Lily decided to turn in at ten o'clock, just a few minutes after the guests had left. After giving each of her parents a final hug and words of thanks for what they had done, Lily turned upstairs.  
  
Just as the eleven-year-old stepped onto the stairs to the attic, a hand reached from the shadows and grasped the back of Lily's shirt.  
  
"Get - off - me -" Lily gasped between struggles; she was nearly suffocating.  
  
"So." Petunia had turned the redhead around with a small flick of her wrist and was surveying her contemptuously. Before Lily could get in a nice 'so what?', Petunia plunged onward.  
  
"Think you're really special now, do you?" the blonde hissed at her. "Think you're Ireally/I something? Well, you're not. Mum and Dad are just doing this, sending you to that Iplace/I, to get rid of you. They don't want you around; they want it to be a nice, happy family: just them and me, the rightful daughter. No measly little carrot top to follow us around, making us look unsuitable. You'll be leaving, soon, and no one will -"  
  
"Would you shut up?" Lily spoke quietly, but her words cut like a knife through Petunia's high-pitched jeering. "Mum and Dad Idon't/I hate me anymore. Have you been paying attention this past month? Oh, how silly of me, of course you have - you follow me everywhere! You'd have to be really dim to not pay attention if you're that obsessed with me. But then, I seem to remember someone walking backwards toward a staircase, screaming her head off for no good reason. Now, Ithat/I person was an idiot."  
  
"Lily, you're so mean! And you aren't a head of brains yourself, because you can't see that Mum and Dad are just glad to be free of you. We're -" she emphasized the 'we,' "We're the perfect family. Mum is pretty and kind and a good cook: the perfect trophy wife. Dad is smart and funny and clever: the perfect head of house. And I'm beautiful and smart and kind and fun to be around: the perfect daughter for dinner parties. Because we're a dinner party family. We don't need any stupid, immature, weird, wild- looking redheads to get in our way. So I suggest you pack your things and have fun at that Ischool/I of yours, because the only place you'll ever fit in is with other freaks like you!"  
  
She smirked at Lily and flounced off to her bedroom, leaving her younger sister to retire to the attic. But suddenly Lily didn't feel the slightest bit sleepy. Not anymore. Petunia's taunts chased themselves around her mind, and nothing she could do would remove their cruel quality. For the first time since she had found out her mother wanted to send his to St. Catherine's, Lily broke down and cried. What if Petunia was right? Did her parents actually like her, or were they counting down the days until they would be free of their nuisance of a youngest daughter?  
  
Tears still streaming down her face, Lily moved about the attic, packing all of her school materials into Jacqueline's trunk, which her father had so kindly repaired. Once she had finished tossing into the trunk all the extra books she could fit, Lily sank down onto the edge of her cot. To lessen Lily's mood even further, the part of the cot she had sat on collapsed under her weight. Lily stood up with an angry moan and kicked the bed as hard as she could, now both angry and sad. But this only added injury to insult, and caused the ironing board-like supports to collapse. Cursing under her breath and hoping that her parents wouldn't come upstairs to see her in such a disposed state, Lily attempted to fix the cot. But it was hopeless, particularly when she was feeling so annoyed, so Lily instead lay on her back on the now-lopsided, poor excuse for a bed, trying vainly to stop crying and stop thinking of what Petunia had said.  
  
Hours later, Lily had no idea when, she finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, a sleep filled with very tall Petunias and images of her parents the times they'd been angry.  
  
The next thing Lily knew, she felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder. Attempting to open her eyes, she realized that her dried tears made this near impossible. Instead, Lily reached for the ancient cup of water on a nearby crate. She splashed her face with this and muttered groggily to whoever had disturbed her slumber.  
  
"Lily, sweetie, its past nine o'clock! It's going to take us an hour and a half to get to King's Cross, so we really need to get going! Come on, come on! Your father has already taken your trunk down to the car, get up!"  
  
"Oh.ermph..sorry, Mum! Just let me change clothes really quickly -" Lily indicated her rumpled black dress; she hadn't changed the night before.  
  
"Okay, honey, but hurry! I don't know what we'd do if you missed the train! And bring Aristotle down; he won't let your father touch his cage!" Mrs. Evans clattered quickly down the stairs, and Lily glanced over at her owl, christened Aristotle after the Greek philosopher. He had healed very well, but with his healed wings he had come to possess a quite temperamental nature. The only humans he would cooperate with were Lily and her mother; he hated everyone else.  
  
"Lily, Icome on/I!" her mother shouted from below.  
  
"I'm coming!" Lily shouted down, leaping out of bed. She threw on her favorite pair of jeans and a green t-shirt with Celtic patterns on the front.  
  
"You can put your shoes on in the car! Come on, let's go!"  
  
Lily grabbed her faded sneakers, a pair of socks, and the cage of Aristotle, who attempted to nip her fingers affectionately through the bars. He soon discovered that this was impossible; his head wouldn't fit through. So his indignant shrieks added to the stomping of Lily's feet as she raced down the stairs.  
  
"Not now, Aristotle!" Lily moaned. "Please, I'll let you out on the train!"  
  
"Lily, Ilet's go/I!" Lily raced past her mother, who was holding the front door open and nervously checking her watch.  
  
The tousled redhead tossed Aristotle's cage into the trunk of the car and clambered in next to Petunia. Mr. Evans revved the engine and drove off very quickly, earning himself a fist-shake from Mr. Henderson, who was weeding in his weed-less garden.  
  
As Lily's heartbeat slowed down from her rushed awakening, Lily felt a pang of misery: this was what Petunia had been talking about, this was confirmation of how much Lily's parents wanted to be rid of her. The rushing, the worries about her missing the train, everything fit. Lily stared despondently out the window, watching Hampshire whirl past.  
  
"Lily, honey, are you okay?" Mrs. Evans asked from the front, half an hour into the drive.  
  
"I'm Ifine/I," Lily told her, speaking more harshly than she'd meant to. No one said anything else for the rest of the drive, though Mrs. Evans checked her watch every few minutes.  
  
"Okay, honey, we've got -" Mrs. Evans gave a little scream as she checked her watch. "We've got five minutes until the train leaves - Roger, honey, go get Lily a luggage cart, we'll get her trunk out of the car -" Mrs. Evans told her husband, rushing around to the trunk and flinging it open. Mr. Evans returned a moment later with a cart.  
  
Lily pulled the indignant Aristotle out of the trunk and set him on top of her trunk. Moving as quickly as they could, the Evans family rushed into the station and toward the wall between platforms nine and ten. Lily hugged each of her parents, promised them she would write, and was too hurried to bother being mean to Petunia; she gave the blonde a quick one-armed hug.  
  
"Bye, Mum, bye, dad! Bye Petunia!" Lily waved one last time, then raced toward the wall and tried to calm her nerves about bursting through something that appeared to be solid.  
  
But all went smoothly; soon the redhead had reached the scarlet steam engine and was doing her best to lift her trunk onto the train.  
  
"Blasted books," she muttered to herself, wishing fervently she that she hadn't tried to bring all of her favorites. But finally, the sense of urgency gave Lily unknown strength, and the redhead was able to hoist the trunk into one of the nearby luggage racks. She was setting it down just as the train's final whistle blew and it began to move.  
  
"Aristotle!" Lily gasped, leaping off of the train.  
  
She was fully aware and quite embarrassed of the fact that nearly everyone in the train was now staring down at her, many of them laughing as she scrambled to pick up her owl's cage, the shoes she had forgotten to put on, and shoved the cart out of the way. By the time Lily had everything that wasn't in her trunk, the train was almost gone.  
  
Screaming as she ran faster than ever before, Lily felt her bare feet ache. Her face burned darker than her hair, both from embarrassment and from exertion. The train was moving too fast, there wasn't any way she could catch it, she was going to miss the train, she'd never go to Hogwarts, she'd have to go home and live with Petunia - Lily put on a final burst of speed and somehow, miraculously, managed to throw Aristotle's cage into the luggage rack of the very last compartment. One more burst of speed, and Lily's shoes were in the luggage rack. And with a final sprint that nearly destroyed Lily's lungs, the eleven-year-old was standing in the luggage rack, grasping someone's trunk with the effort of staying standing and conscious.  
  
The nearest compartment slid open and a number of curious faces appeared.  
  
"Oh my.she looks like she's going to pass out! Someone get her into the compartment, she needs to sit down!" Someone called out, sounding worried, but Lily couldn't tell who it was.  
  
Everything was so blurry, she was so dizzy, it was so hot - an arm appeared out of nowhere and Lily sank gratefully upon it. She was supported into the compartment of curious people and set down gently on a seat. Lily couldn't help it, she wanted to stay conscious, she was embarrassed enough, but there was nothing she could do. Her cognizance was out of her own control, she felt herself sinking gratefully into cool, wonderful darkness.  
  
Someone was slapping Lily's face. She wanted them to stop; she didn't want to leave the cool abyss of slumber. She moaned, annoyed and opened her eyes to see quite an array of faces above her.  
  
"Ah, she's awake!" the boy who had been slapping Lily's face smiled and stood back, offering Lily a hand so that she could sit up.  
  
"Thanks," Lily muttered. "Is there - is there anything to drink? Water, or, or something? My throat is really parched."  
  
"Already thought of that!" said a girl with elbow-length, white-blond braids and skin even paler than Lily's. "Here - iced pumpkin juice. Frank says it's the best you'll get in England!" She pointed at the boy who had been slapping Lily's face.  
  
"Thank you," Lily accepted the bottle gratefully, and drank nearly the entire thing before looking up at the people surrounding her.  
  
"Thirsty, are you?" Frank grinned at the sweat-covered Lily.  
  
"So would you, if you'd run after the train!" Lily mopped her brow with a warm hand and stood up, stretching.  
  
"Well, ladies, sorry to leave so soon, but I must get back to my compartment. I hope you feel better, -" he pointed his finger toward Lily.  
  
"Lily. Lily Evans," the redhead smiled at him.  
  
"I hope you feel better, Lily," Frank remarked as her walked backwards out of the compartment.  
  
"Isn't he Ihandsome/I?" A new girl had come into Lily's vision. She had a very round face and chin-length, strawberry blonde hair. But she was smiling so happily that her pudgy features practically disappeared, and she looked quite pretty. "My name is Alice Surrideo, by the way."  
  
"Oh, it's nice to meet you," Lily smiled back at her. There was something about Alice's happy-go-lucky attitude that made Lily feel as though she had to feel great, as well. "I guess he's alright."  
  
"IAlright/I?! He's dreamy." Alice trailed off, an expression of bliss in her periwinkle eyes. Lily laughed.  
  
"Alice here has been infatuated with him since she was five," the first girl Lily had seen grinned. "They met at a party for the ministry, and she hasn't been the same since. My name is Lucy, otherwise known as the best friend of the Frank-fanatic." She looked over at the still-smiling Alice, who chucked a bag of candy in her direction.  
  
Lily joined the two friends in laughing.  
  
"The ministry?" she asked once the giggles had subsided.  
  
"Oh, you must be Muggle-born!" Alice exclaimed. "The Ministry of Magic.it's like Britain's wizarding government. The Department of Mysteries, The Department of Accidental Magic Reversal, Auror Headquarters, Minister of Magic.it's all there."  
  
Never in one sentence had Lily been so confused.  
  
"Um - what?" She asked, trying and failing to remove the befuddled expression on her face.  
  
"Oh, that's right, you wouldn't know," Lucy realized. "The Ministry is huge.lets see, the Department of Mysteries.I've got no idea what goes on in there. No one does. Umm.Accidental Magic Reversal.when wizards and witches get angry, they sometimes do accidental magic. As you can tell from the title, that's what this department deals with. Auror headquarters: Aurors are dark wizard catchers.kind of like muggle detectives. My dad's an auror! Edgar Bones.one of the best they have!" she added proudly. "And my aunt's in the ministry too.Amelia Bones, she deals with court stuff. And I know a lot about Muggles because my cousin's fiancé works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. And -"  
  
"Half her family is in the ministry, see?" Alice commented.  
  
"Look who's talking! Alice's mum's head of the Floo Regulation Panel," Lucy informed the compartment. A boy in the corner nodded at her, then turned back to his friends, laughing raucously. Lucy rolled her eyes. "But anyway.the Minister of Magic is Millicent Bagnold. And there are tons of other departments and branches.it goes on forever."  
  
Lucy turned toward Lily, who had sat back down in one of the seats. A moment later, Lucy and Alice broke out laughing.  
  
"What? What are you laughing at?" Lily smiled uncertainly at them.  
  
"Your mouth was - like this -" Lucy purposefully dropped her jaw and bugged out her eyes. Alice broke into an even louder peal of laughter, bringing stares from the boy in the corner.  
  
"I just - never realized there was so little I knew!" Lily answered, smiling along with the other two.  
  
"If you think Iyou/I know very little, wait until you meet some of the purebloods! I wouldn't know anything myself, but last summer I took it upon myself to attack Alfie - he's my cousin's fiancé - with questions about Muggles," Lucy said. "But not everyone has that much sense. Why, Alice here doesn't even know what a television is!"  
  
"A what?" Alice was hardly paying attention; Frank had just walked past the compartment door.  
  
"Exactly." Lucy and Lily burst out laughing.  
  
"You know, Alice, if we put a big, drooling dog face on your shoulders instead of your head, I wonder if Frank would know the difference?" Lucy continued to laugh.  
  
"Very funny, very funny. But Frank doesn't know I like him, does he?"  
  
"I wouldn't know.but probably not. Second years like him rarely give us first years a second glance. Except for Lily over here," Lucy nudged the redhead with her elbow in a very obvious fashion.  
  
Alice glared at the two of them.  
  
"If you date Frank, I swear I will not rest until your head is on the moon and your body is at the bottom of the ocean!"  
  
Lily giggled.  
  
"Don't worry, Frank-lover, I wouldn't dream of dating your sweetheart," Lily assured her. Alice smiled at these words.  
  
"Yeah, she'd be too worried of incurring the Evil Alice Wrath of Doom," Lucy added, causing Alice to glare and Lily to laugh.  
  
"Wow, I'm really glad I met you," Lily commented when all was silent again. She smiled, gazing out across the large, sunbathed lake they were passing. "This is all so amazing.you know, I almost feel like this is a dream, or a joke. I certainly wouldn't put it past Petunia." she shuddered.  
  
"Petunia?" Alice asked, interested in conversation now that Frank was truly gone. Lily started; she hadn't realized that she had vocalized the last part.  
  
"Petunia is my awful prick of a sister," Lily told them. "And I really do wonder - this is just the sort of thing she'd love to do: convince me I'm going somewhere where I'll fit in and have fun, and yell at me in the process, then have it turn out to be a hoax."  
  
"Don't worry, if this is a ruse, it's a damn elaborate joke, because we're all being fooled!" Lucy reassured the redhead.  
  
"Don't curse," Alice berated her absentmindedly. Lucy rolled her eyes.  
  
"I must warn you, Lily, that Alice lives in a rather thick-walled box," Lucy retaliated. "I don't think she'd come out if Frank didn't exist." Alice threw a candy wrapper at her friend. "So, tell us about this Petunia." She sank onto the floor and propped her head up on one of the seats, watching Lily with purposefully unblinking eyes.  
  
"Ugh, you don't want to know about Petunia," Lily assured her, laughing at the feigned fascination.  
  
"By telling me that I Idon't/I want to know, you've completely fascinated me," Lucy rattled off. Alice nodded fervently, though Lily noticed that her eyes kept flicking toward the compartment door, probably in search of Frank.  
  
"Alright, fine. But I can complain about her for hours - she's tortured me my whole life - so just smack me and tell me to shut my pie-hole if it gets too boring."  
  
"Pie?" Alice turned back from staring at the glass above the compartment door. "Frank likes pie. I remember at the 1968 Ministry summer picnic, he -"  
  
"Alice, repeat after me: I. Will. Not. Think. About. Frank. For. Ten. Bloody. Minutes," Lucy rolled her eyes in her friends' direction. "You need a break: this is bordering on obsession, and you're scaring Lily."  
  
"I don't mind!" Lily insisted.  
  
"Fine, you're scaring me!"  
  
"Alright, fine," Alice consented. "I will not think about Frank for ten - for the rest of this train ride."  
  
"Wonderful! She left out the 'bloody'," Lucy told Lily in a very loud whisper. "It figures. Frank goes bye-bye, Alice goes 'BOXIE!'"  
  
Lily cracked up. Alice's face broke into yet another smile.  
  
"There isn't anything wrong with not cursing. And I don't live in a box - well, maybe I do, but I'm not obsessed with it. I'm obsessed with -"  
  
"Frank," Lily and Lucy answered at the same time. The three girls laughed.  
  
"So, Petunia?" Alice changed the subject, clearly intent on talking about something other than her own habits.  
  
Lily spent a good thirty minutes talking about her sister. It felt incredibly good to get it all out: she had never had someone whom she could complain to like this, and, though she felt a little selfish to admit it, it was a very nice feeling. Somehow, there was a very big difference between complaining in a diary and complaining to people who actually were interested. And Alice and Lucy most certainly were: they made a very attentive audience. When Lily told them of Petunia walking backwards down the Gringotts stairs, Alice practically went into hysterics, astounded that anyone could be that dim, while Lucy cursed very loudly. The boy in the corner grinned at her before turning back to his friends.  
  
Once the subject of Petunia had worn out, Lily learned a lot more about the other two. Time passed very quickly, and Lily found that she was having the greatest time. Around four or so, Alice excused herself to go find a restroom ("And snoop in on Frank," Lucy added knowingly). Lucy decided it was prime time for a nap, so fell asleep on the floor with very loud, exaggerated snores. Though very amused at her dramatization, Lily allowed the boy and his friends (who had been eyeing the very pretty girl the entire train ride) to be entertained. She decided instead to go find her trunk and get one of her schoolbooks. She'd been reading them all throughout the last month, but after meeting Lucy and Alice, Lily truly felt that this was Ireal/I, and she wanted to read again now that she had developed her new viewpoint.  
  
On the way past Aristotle's cage, Lily reached into the convenient drawer beneath it and fed the owl one of the owl treats her mother had bought in Diagon Alley. He hooted his thanks and Lily continued on her way. She wasn't really sure where she'd left her trunk, only that it was a lot farther down the train. As she walked, smiling as wide as Alice in her satisfied mood, Lily heard little snippets of the conversations in various compartments.  
  
Within one, two snarling girls had begun what looked like some kind of wizard's duel. One had a very large, swelling purple mole on her chin, whereas the other, whose back was to Lily, boasted a very long, fluffy dog's tail. Inside another, nearly empty compartment, Lily saw an older boy and a girl Iquite/I involved in kissing one another. From the side, they looked as though they were trying to eat each other. Slightly disturbed, Lily left the window to that compartment very quickly.  
  
After another few moments, she had reached the luggage rack on which her trunk had landed so haphazardly. She reached inside the chest and attempted to withdraw IHogwarts, a History/I from its inside without allowing any of its other contents to spill out. On a whim, she decided to pull out her wand and a set of robes, too: she figured that they would be required to change once the train arrived at Hogwarts. The wand was not difficult to retrieve, but the robes were a different story. Stored conveniently underneath a very heavy set of Jane Austin books, when Lily had tugged on them, they would not come free. Worried about ripping her robes, Lily pulled quickly, as hard as she could, releasing the robes - and the trunk fell onto her foot.  
  
"Owww." she shrieked in pain, suddenly remembering how heavy the trunk had been when she had tried to lift it into the luggage racks.  
  
Still wincing with ache of her crushed toes, Lily tried to remove her foot from under the trunk, but it wouldn't budge. She pulled harder. Nothing. Finally deciding to use the same philosophy as the quick spurts of speed that had gotten her on the train, Lily pulled hard, numerous times, a break between each effort. Finally, with an extra hard yank, the trunk fell off of Lily's foot with a muffled bang. Mildly surprised, Lily backed toward the door of a nearby compartment. But this was open, so Lily's momentum carried her backwards, until -  
  
"Oof! Hullo there!" said a voice behind Lily. The unsuspecting redhead had backed right onto someone's lap.  
  
"Oh - I'm - so sorry!" Lily gasped, her face coloring. She leapt up and turned to face the unfortunate victim of her loss of control.  
  
He was a rather short, hazel-eyed boy with incredibly messy, windblown black hair. At the moment he was grinning furiously at her.  
  
"No problem," he answered coolly, slouching back in his seat. "The name's James Potter. This is Sirius. Remus', over there, involved in some book. And that's Peter." He pointed at each of his friends in turn. Sirius had hair the same color as James, but it was far straighter and less messy, with long bangs that got in his chocolate-colored eyes. Remus was reading IFrankenstein/I, by Mary Shelley. Behind the large leather cover of the book sat a peaky-looking boy with light brown hair and almost amber eyes. As for Peter, the chubby boy was at the moment devouring some kind of candy labeled 'Chocolate Frogs.'  
  
After surveying the other members of James' compartment, Lily turned back to see the boy mussing his hair even more by running his hands through it.  
  
"So, seen something of good ole Jamesie that you liked?" he flexed his muscles at the half-attentive redhead, who was at the moment trying to get her pained toes to move. ICrimeny,/I she thought, when nothing happened. II must have fractured them./I  
  
"What do you mean?" Lily, who was still trying to move her toes, had seen nothing of James' antics.  
  
"What do you mean what do I mean? You come waltzing in here, carefree as a butterfly - a very pretty butterfly - and plop down on my lap! Clearly there's something you want." he grinned in what he apparently thought was a suggestive and attractive way. Lily stopped examining her toes.  
  
"Eurgh, no! I just - lost my balance when I was getting my robes out of my trunk, because they were under some books and I had to pull really hard and then the trunk fell on my foot and to get it off I had to pull really hard and then when I finally came free of the trunk I got caught up in the momentum of my pull and accidentally walked backward into your compartment and - and fell into your lap," even as Lily spoke this incredibly long- winded sentence, she knew how far-fetched it sounded. But she was too appalled by James' behavior to notice or pay much attention to that.  
  
"Got yourself a nice one, Potter," the boy James had introduced as Sirius spoke, walking around Lily as though appraising her.  
  
"What - are you - Idoing/I?!" Lily said indignantly.  
  
"Pretty little butterfly as you may be, but you still haven't told me your name," James stared into Lily's green eyes.  
  
"It's Lily, but that's not the point -" Lily blinked furiously to reroute her vision.  
  
"Oh, pardon me, a flower, not a butterfly. Well, whatever you are, care to join us? I know that you are simply Iitching/I to find out more about the impeccable vision of man-flesh that is me," James spoke lazily.  
  
"Do you seriously think of yourself that way, or do you find your antics funny?" shoving Sirius' hand out of the way, Lily stormed out of the compartment and slammed the door behind her. She distinctly heard a voice within say,  
  
"I think she likes me!"  
  
Rolling her eyes at James' incredibly annoying personality, Lily gathered up the spilled contents of her trunk. She picked up a set of robes, her wand, her witches' hat, and exchanged IHogwarts, a History/I for IAstrology for the Stargazer/I; it was a good quarter of the size of the other volume, so she wouldn't have as much trouble carrying it around if she didn't get the chance to place it back into her trunk.  
  
She walked quickly back to the end compartment, still very irritated with James. But for some reason, she wasn't as angry as she felt warranted to be. Completely confused by her own fickle thoughts, Lily didn't pay much attention to where she was going.  
  
Outside of a compartment a few down from the end one she had shared with Lucy, Alice, and the mysterious corner-boys, Lily spotted Frank, and waved hello, wondering in the back of her mind how near Alice was. Sure enough, moments later, the round-faced girl leapt out at Lily from behind a luggage rack she was passing.  
  
"What did he do? Did he smile at you? Did he look happy to see you? Did he mention me? Did he -" Alice gasped, a look of horror on her pudgy face. "IDid you kiss him/I?!"  
  
"No, silly!" Lily laughed at the look of intense fury on Alice's face. "Okay, in answer to your questions. He said hello, smiled faintly, didn't look happy Ior/I unhappy, didn't say anything other than a greeting, and of course I didn't kiss him! I don't find him the slightest bit attractive, and I'd be worried about incurring the Evil Alice Wrath of Doom! Honestly, Alice, you need to find something else to obsess over.how about -"  
  
"Pies!" Alice exclaimed, the fury gone and a brilliant smile remaining. "I'll learn to make pies! Frank loves pies!"  
  
Rolling her eyes at the helplessness of the situation, Lily followed Alice back to their compartment, half-listening as Alice began to recite a list of all the pies she could think of. They reached the compartment and Lily walked inside, plopping her things onto a booth.  
  
Lucy had, apparently, grown tired of her dramatics, for she was now actually sleeping across a set of three chairs. The boys from the corner were sitting directly across from her, gazing at the pretty girl's face and talking quietly among themselves. The moment Alice slid the compartment door shut, all three leapt up as though stung in a very unpleasant place and returned to their corner, occasionally chancing glances at Lucy when they thought neither of her friends were paying attention.  
  
For the rest of the train ride, Lily read more of her book, Lucy slept, and Alice doodled in a notebook she had retrieved from her trunk. After another hour or two passed, - Lily wasn't sure how long, she'd left her watch at home in the rush to leave on time - a voice came over the intercom, announcing that they had almost reached Hogwarts.  
  
Lily gently shook Lucy awake, and then the three girls pulled their robes on over their clothing. Lily wasn't sure how she was supposed to wear them, so she just followed Alice's example. Anyway, she didn't find the prospect of undressing in the clear eyesight of Lucy's fan club at all appealing. They paid a good deal more attention than was necessary as Lucy pulled her robes over her head. Lily could have sworn one was drooling as Lucy flipped her bangs back from her eyes. She chuckled slightly, amused that Lucy was so obviously unaware of her good looks.  
  
She and the other two girls spoke quietly as they waited for the train to come to a stop. Lily kept glancing out the window, but it was hopeless: the sky was pitch black. No lights whatsoever were visible, that is, not until they drew toward the soft lanterns guarding what Alice mentioned was the Hogsmeade station. The train had stopped; they were at Hogwarts. Lily took her hair out of its ponytail, for the hat wouldn't fit on her head with it there. She then stuck her wand into a conveniently located pocket in her robes, found another for the astrology book, and straightened the hat on her head. And then, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Lily followed her everyone else out onto the platform. 


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Flying Purple People Eaters  
  
Once outside, Lily realized that it wasn't all that dark; her vision had been obscured simply by the contrast of the bright compartment to the darker outdoors. Lily gazed up at the stars, obscurely identifying some of the constellations her astrology book had described.  
  
"Lily! Come on, we've got to go!" Alice was tugging on the sleeve of Lily's robes, pointing toward a bending path from which a voice was calling,  
  
"Firs' years, this way!"  
  
"Yes, as much as I know that great joy can be found by watching the stars, we need to get moving." There was a slight hint of sarcasm in Lucy's voice. "I'm sure that many of the people whose way we are blocking would find similar joy in walking right over us!"  
  
"Oops, sorry." Lily followed Alice and Lucy around the bend, each girl walking slightly briskly in order to catch up with the rest of the first year students and the very large form that was leading them. As they drew nearer, Lily could hear the words of the giant-like being as he spoke to a student next to him:  
  
".name's Rubeus Hagrid, but call me by my las' name, everyone does. I'm the 'ssistant groundskeeper here at 'ogwarts. Help out ole Ogg an' his wife in carin' for this school," he spoke gruffly, in a strong accent that Lily could not identify as anything in particular. He raised his voice to address entire body of students, "All righ,' everyone? You'll be seein' 'ogwarts for the very firs' time, up 'round this bend!"  
  
Lily's breath caught in her throat. A giant castle, black with the night's discoloration, hailed the approaching first years from across a similarly dark lake. The turrets, towers, and miscellaneous out-branches of the castle were all silhouetted by a large, slightly yellow-toned moon, nearly full. Shadows from the building darted out across sweeping lawns, somewhat distorted in the changes of altitude.  
  
"All righ,' everyone get in a boat! No more'n five in each one!" Hagrid's voice broke into Lily's observations. She joined Lucy, Alice, and one of Lucy's fan-boys in a nearby boat. She and Alice whispered together about the castle's beauty. Lucy made a big show of being astonished for the benefit of her adoring fan, who laughed appreciatively, though he barely glanced up at the castle; his eyes were too fixed on Lucy's face.  
  
When they didn't move for a few minutes, the very hungry Lily began to look around, trying to figure out what was going on. She heard Hagrid say,  
  
"Come on, in yeh get! Go find a diff'rent boat, that one's full, can't yeh see?"  
  
"All right, sorry there good man!" came the answer. The voice continued, "It's alright, Remus ole buddy, I'm perfectly capable of choosing a new boat." The body belonging to the strangely familiar voice jumped out of the boat, causing screams as droplets of water hit those in his locality. The splashing approached Lily's boat, and the very last person she wanted to sit next to clambered in to join her.  
  
He took a very long time of settling down, making a particularly convoluted performance of not being comfortable. Lily was reminded vehemently of a very annoying, shorter version of Lucy. By the time James finally stopped rearranging himself, and the boat had stopped shifting with his constant movement, the self-sailing vessel had halfway traversed the lake. Though Lily had been trying her best to avoid the boy, he wound up sitting right next to her, and gave a very large, fake gasp of astonishment when he saw her. His activity was so severe that the boat really began to rock back and forth. When James sat down again, he slipped right off of the rim of the boat and into the black water.  
  
Feeling rather sorry for the wet, lake water-drenched boy, Lily reached down to help him out - and found herself being pulled into the water by the hand she'd offered to pull him out with. The unfortunate presence of gravity caused the boat to anchor toward the opposite side of the now very wet Lily and James. It was so abrupt that the other three students on the boat soon found themselves in the water as well, their boat completely capsized and their bodies soaking wet.  
  
Hagrid was beside himself.  
  
"'Ow can you Ifall into/I the lake? What were you Ithinkin'/I?" He berated them for a while before pulling them out of the lake. When he did, all five first-years were shivering uncontrollably. Despite the warm condition of the day, night was cold and the day's sunlight didn't warm the fathoms-deep lake.  
  
The rest of the first-years-to-be had already gotten to the other side and were waiting in a nervous cluster for the remaining people to arrive. Lily shivered deeply under her soaked robes, feeling the material squeak across her equally dampened jeans. She shot a look of pure contempt at James. He had been grinning at her, but the fervor in her gaze made him drop him eyes, though he still smiled to himself.  
  
Professor McGonagall, the deputy headmistress who had taught at the Hogwarts seminar, was no less angry than Hagrid. She was waiting for the students at the other side of the lake and had apparently been told what happened by James' snickering friends. If Lily had thought the professor was unsmiling before, the thin line of McGonagall's mouth proved that Lily had no idea how irate the teacher could become.  
  
"You have no right to delay the feast so directly and obviously!" she shouted in Lily and James' direction, her mouth so thin it appeared invisible. Apparently, though Alice, Lucy, and Lucy's fan had been able to escape blame, the equally innocent Lily wasn't so lucky. "Detention, for the both of you! I don't care that we don't know what house you're in yet, you'll get that detention! Now come on, everyone's waiting!" She stormed off, apparently expecting everyone to follow her. "You've taken so long that we'll have to go straight in; normally you get a few moments to tidy up."  
  
She seemed to be focused particularly on the dripping students as she said this. Lily looked down at herself and saw that she was leaving a trail of water behind her and that she still hadn't remembered to put on her shoes. Despite her shivering body, a rosy tinge of embarrassment crossed her face. She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach, both from nerves and from the worry that she was going to give everyone a very bad impression of herself, which was exactly what she was trying to avoid if she were to reach the promise she had given her parents. Her shivering increased, though by now it was not just from her frozen limbs.  
  
As for the other lake-soaked students, Alice's hair hung in dampened strings around her nervous face. She was so edgy that she appeared to even have forgotten about Frank, which was a big deal, for her. As for Lucy, though completely soaked, she seemed still to be enjoying herself. She was doing a spirited imitation of the boat's tipping for the benefit of her fan, who was laughing appreciatively. She seemed even more vociferous than she'd been on the train, which was probably her way of showing nerves. James Potter was laughing with his friends, though, like Lucy, Lily presumed this was his way of showing tension.  
  
However, as McGonagall instructed them into a single file line and opened the door to the great hall, even the loud, gregarious students lost their bravado. Lily was suddenly very aware of the constant drip-drip-drip of her saturated clothing and the damp ringlets of auburn hair that surrounded her face haphazardly.  
  
IAt least I didn't wear my shoes/I, Lily thought as she heard the squelching of Lucy's sneakers somewhere farther up the line.  
  
Trying not to think of her dilapidated nerves, Lily focused intently on the back of Lucy's fan's head. She was very aware of the whispering that was emanating from the students around them. She knew her face would color further if she weren't so nervous about being sorted.  
  
Lily honestly didn't know what house she'd like to be in, though the prospect of Gryffindor seemed promising. She wouldn't mind Ravenclaw, though, and sincerely hoped that she wouldn't wind up in Slytherin; being Muggle-born would not be considered an acceptable thing in that house, if what she had read was reality. As for Hufflepuff, in Lily's opinion that house seemed very dull. But even more worrying than her house location was how she would be sorted in the first place. Lily thought back to the schoolbooks she'd looked through and tried to remember spells that might help her do whatever was necessary to be placed in a house. Unfortunately, nearly everything helpful Lily had read conveniently exited her mind the moment she started thinking about it. The only thing she could remember at the moment was a charm to turn things indigo, which she highly doubted would help her in any test.  
  
Lily took in her breath in short, steadying gasps, trying her best to restrain the sudden desire to turn and sprint as fast as she could away from the hall. Rather than look at the snickering faces, Lily gazed up into the ceiling and remembered something she had read in IHogwarts, a History/I: the ceiling was spelled to resemble the sky outside. The same constellations Lily had seen outside were present, and she was halfway through deciphering what one of them was when the girl on her left elbowed her viciously in the ribs.  
  
"IPay attention,/I" she hissed.  
  
Her face almost burning again, Lily looked down to see Professor McGonagall setting a rather bedraggled hat on a stand on the raised platform in front of the teacher's table, which the line was now in front of.  
  
Following everyone else's example, Lily focused on the hat. She nearly jumped into the air with surprise when a rip near its rim opened and the hat began to sing:  
  
IMany long years have departed Since the Hogwarts founders did exist But when the school was first started The four shared a common wish.  
  
In times when magic was a frightening thought To all who didn't understand The Hogwarts founders came and bought This lovely piece of land.  
  
And upon these grounds a school was introduced- A place where gifted students could be trained, The bounds holding them back the founders loosed And over the years they reigned.  
  
Knowing they could not live forever For even immortal in spirit do die Gryffindor came up with the undoubtedly clever Idea of making me before he said goodbye.  
  
I was given the most unusual gift Of recognizing the traits that rest, unsure In every one of the young minds I sift In search of aspects of your nature.  
  
I never had the chance to look in the minds Of the magical Hogwarts Four But if I had, I can tell you what I'd find Abundant within their core.  
  
In Gryffindor's scarlet soul, In addition to nerve's noble land I'd find bravery in utmost control And chivalry second in command.  
  
As for Ravenclaw, the girls' heart Was filled with intelligence galore A woman who loved learning from the start She'd be constantly hungry for more.  
  
Slytherin, the sly old dog Had a cunning, reckless streak Quite frankly a power-hog Slytherin was anything but weak.  
  
The final founder, Hufflepuff the sweet Honored those who were loyal Though most of all she wanted to meet Hard-workers, she accepted all!/I  
  
The hall burst into applause, and the hat bent at the tip in some kind of unusual bow. Lily felt much of her nervousness dissipate; putting on a hat would be far easier than many of the situations her distressed mind had created. Lily noticed that most of the students looked far less nervous than they had beforehand.  
  
Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a long piece of parchment.  
  
"When I call your name, please step forward and place the hat on your head," she addressed the first years. "Abbot, Michael!"  
  
A boy with a rather pink-looking face ran forward and placed the hat on his head. He sat for a few seconds before the hat shouted,  
  
"Hufflepuff!" Michael walked down to the table that was cheering for him.  
  
"Ackerly, Malcolm!"  
  
"Ravenclaw!"  
  
McGonagall went slowly down the list, reading off each name. There seemed to be a lot of first-years.  
  
"Black, Sirius!"  
  
"Gryffindor!"  
  
"Black, Narcissa!"  
  
"Slytherin!"  
  
Lily wondered if the two were related.  
  
"Bones, Lucy!"  
  
The wet girl swaggered forward, not nervous in the least now that she knew all that she had to do was put on a hat. The frayed piece of material had barely touched her head when -  
  
"Gryffindor!"  
  
Grinning hugely, Lucy jogged down to the table cheering for her.  
  
Lily was beginning to feel her nerves come back, even worse than before. The B's were almost done.Carlson started the C's (Slytherin!), then the one D came and went. Before Lily knew it, McGonagall was calling the girl who had poked her earlier up to the stool.  
  
"Elphick, Jennifer!"  
  
With the loud call of Ravenclaw, Lily's heart took a nasty drop. Here it was, it was coming -  
  
"Evans, Lily!"  
  
Lily walked forward as quickly as she could without showing her bare feet, and sat down on the small stool. She took one final glance at the watching school and put the hat onto her head.  
  
It was so large that it fell down almost to Lily's chin. Unsure of what to do, Lily tried to squint through a tiny hole in one of the patches.  
  
"Soo.hmm, very promising indeed," a small voice spoke in Lily's ear. It was all she could manage not to leap into the air in surprise. "There is courage, but it's hidden under other traits.very promising magic-wise, and well read, that's always good.the desire to do very well, to make new friends.I'll leave it up to you, Miss Evans. Where would you like to go? Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?"  
  
IGryffindor, please,/I Lily thought as hard as she could. It seemed as though the hat could read her mind, and she didn't much want to speak out loud with everyone watching her so closely.  
  
"Very well.GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted the final word so that everyone in the hall could hear - and as far as Moscow, Lily presumed, for the hat's shout had nearly taken her eardrum out.  
  
She smiled contentedly and walked down to join Lucy at the applauding table. The blonde squealed and hugged her. Once both girls had calmed down, they turned back to see "Gudgeon, Davey" - who also happened to be Lucy's adoring fan - become a Hufflepuff.  
  
Lily smirked as she watched him glance longingly at the Gryffindor table as he walked toward the cheering Hufflepuffs.  
  
The sorting went a lot faster when you weren't being sorted, Lily realized. The whirl of faces all blended in her mind. After watching "Lupin, Remus" get sorted, (GRYFFINDOR!) Lily's eyes flicked down the rest of the line. Standing next to a Black boy with a very round, large hairstyle, was Alice. Far from being calm now, she was shifting up and down on the balls of her feet and not smiling at all - it was a strange look for the happy-go-lucky girl. All too soon, Proffesor McGonagall called out,  
  
"Surrideo, Alice!"  
  
She stumbled forward. He shoes squelched very obviously and a number of students at the Slytherin table began to laugh. Lily shot them a nasty look and turned back to see a very green Alice sit down on the stool.  
  
Lacking Lily's self-control, a few seconds after she sat down, Alice leapt into the air in an aura of complete surprise. Lily presumed that she'd heard the voice in her ear.  
  
However, Alice's embarrassment wasn't over yet. When she landed back on the stool, her slippery robes caused her to slide off and onto the floor with a dull thud. Nearly everyone laughed, but both Lily and Lucy were filled with concern for their friend.  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat finally shouted, but the damage was done.  
  
Alice's blue-green eyes were filled with tears when she joined the Gryffindors. Lucy hugged the sad girl gently.  
  
"Alice, honey, it's okay!" Lucy told her best friend. "Don't worry. Slimy pr icks.don't think on it; it's just the stupid Slytherins. Ignore 'em.you're bloody well better off with us. And Frankie." She nudged her friend obviously and pointed down the table to the brunette boy Alice had been so obsessed with earlier.  
  
"Don't curse," Alice spoke through her silent tears, though she was now smiling. Lily had to hand it to Lucy; the girl had a talent for cheering people up.  
  
"Come on, Alice, everyone had their little embarrassments," Lily told her softly. "I nearly did the same thing as you! I very well may have, were I not used to hearing voices in my head."  
  
Lucy laughed, and Alice smiled at the redhead, wiping away her tears.  
  
"You're right. You're both right. I was just.so nervous," she explained. Lily nodded; she understood completely. "I don't even know why I'm crying." she continued to cry silently, "I always wanted to be in Gryffindor. Much of my family's been in Hufflepuff, see, but I like this house better. And there's no one I'd rather be here with than you two," she told Lily and Lucy, giving each a one-armed hug.  
  
"I can think of one person," Lucy announced, glancing obviously toward Frank.  
  
Lily joined in Alice's laughs, but she felt inclined to take the round- faced girl's comment more seriously than Lucy had; she felt warmed from the inside. No one had ever actually Iwanted/I her company before, and she discovered that it was a wonderful feeling.  
  
She turned back to see the "Zabini, Xavier" get sorted (SLYTHERIN!) and watched Professor McGonagall roll up the long parchment and carry the stool out of the hall. Lily's attention was drawn back to the teacher's table when a man with very long, silver-gray colored beard and hair stood up and surveyed the students through his half-moon glasses. He shook his scarlet, celestial robes from his hands and spoke in a melodic, carrying voice:  
  
"I have a number of announcements to make, but I'm sure that many of you are very hungry. Nothing that cannot wait until after the feast." With these words, the tall wizard seated himself and Lily looked down at the empty plates, wondering if perhaps someone had forgotten to cook.  
  
Suddenly, however, the golden silverware filled with foods of all kinds. Lily's hunger, which had dissipated in her nervous state over the sorting, returned full-blast. This was understandable; she hadn't eaten anything since her goodbye supper the night before. The starved redhead piled everything vegetarian onto her plate and began to eat vociferously. She wasn't the only one; nearly everyone in the giant room managed to devour second or third helpings. While she ate her way through a slice of pecan pie, smiling at the expression of remembrance that came over Alice's face when she saw the food ("Pecan pie! How could I forget! I remembered mincemeat, but not pecan?"), Lily listened in on some of the conversations around her.  
  
The boy Lily remembered as Sirius Black, James' friend, was glancing over at the Slytherin table, looking slightly put out.  
  
"What's wrong?" a fifth-year boy with curly brown hair asked him.  
  
"My mum's going to kill me," Sirius answered. "Never been a Black who didn't get into Slytherin. Never. I can expect a Howler tomorrow morning."  
  
"That soon? She might not find out right away, you know."  
  
"Oh, she will. 'Cissa, or Bellatrix, my cousins, will definitely tell her, as soon as possible. It's another common Black trait to enjoy the suffering of others. I'll bet Bella's heading up to the owlry now," he pointed at the back of a fourth-year girl's robes as she left the Great Hall. "And if she doesn't, 'Cissa - Narcissa Black, she's in my year - 'Cissa'll go write her."  
  
On Lily's right side, Alice had retrieved her damp sketchbook - which was filled with doodles, nearly all containing the words 'F.L.' somewhere - and was comprising a list of all the kinds of pie she knew. With the best of interests in mind, Lily pulled the notebook away from her friend and stashed it under the table.  
  
Lucy, who had broken free of the pea-entertainment she was providing for a group of third year boys, seemed inclined to make a smart remark about this, but she was stopped when the silver-bearded man stood up and clapped his hand together to draw everyone's attention.  
  
"Let me just say, first of all, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If you did not already know, my name is Albus Dumbledore. I am headmaster of this school. Now, there are a few reminders I need to give out. First and foremost, the Forbidden Forest is, self-explanatory. Any students caught there without expressed permission are risking more than house points. Also, planted just this summer is Hogwarts' first Whomping Willow. Whomping Willows are highly dangerous trees; they are also very valuable. We are asking that all exercise great caution when nearing this specimen. Also forbidden is the town of Hogsmeade to all under third year.  
  
"Mr. Pringle, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you that no magic may be performed in the corridors. For any other information about Mr. Pringle's restrictions, please go to his office on your own time."  
  
"This year we have also made some changes in staff. At the end of last year, Professor Flavius, the potions teacher, deputy headmaster, and Slytherin head of house, decided to go into his well-deserved retirement. Professor McGonagall has taken over deputy duties, and our new potions professor, Professor Dulcissa," he indicated a smiling blonde witch a few seats down. The school applauded politely. "Professor Dulcissa will take over duties as Slytherin head of house."  
  
"That is all that comes to mind at the moment; house prefects will instruct you on any other rules and restrictions. Now, trot off to bed; I'm sure that you're all quite exhausted. Full bellies and long train rides equal exhausted students." Dumbledore gave a slight nod of his head, and, following this indication, the students in the Great Hall began the trek to their common rooms.  
  
"Gryffindors! Gryffindor first years, please follow me. Excuse me, I'm a prefect! Gryffindor first years, this way please!" A tall girl with very short, layered dark brown hair called over the sea of students. Lily and Alice hurried to the doorway, looking around for Lucy, but she was nowhere to be seen. They met with some of the other Gryffindor first years and the prefect who had called out to them. "This way, first years," she spoke again once the young students were gathered around her.  
  
"My name is Kelsey Mullet," she told them in a strong Irish accent as she walked briskly thorough the halls. Most of the first years had to sprint to catch up with her. "I'm one of the Gryffindor Prefects. Kirley McCormack is the other; I guess he's leading the other first years."  
  
She continued to talk, but Lily dropped back to walk with Alice. Both girls were too sleepy to exchange much conversation, but there was something about the silent presence that was far better than talking would have been anyway. Lily lazily watched Mullet lead them through corridor after corridor, up staircases, and even through a few secret passageways. She had no idea how she was going to remember it all later, but the was too tired to think about it very much.  
  
The part of their trek through Hogwarts that was by far the most interesting was the paintings. Unlike in the muggle world, these constantly moved. It was like their occupants were alive, and truly entertaining to watch. Lily and Alice drew considerably behind the rest of the company when they stopped to watch a woman in a crinoline hoop skirt engage in a very elaborate swordsmanship duel with a knight who had walked into her portrait. They had to run fairly hard to catch up, but by the time the reached the corridor where they'd lat seen Kelsey leading the first years, it ended in a solid wall.  
  
"Great.where'd they go?" Alice said, feeling the wall to be sure it was solid.  
  
"I don't know." Lily answered, looking around. "Maybe it's another secret passage?" She tried to lift a portrait of a bowl of pasta, which began squealing shrilly when she touched it and wouldn't budge.  
  
A few moments later, Alice leapt backwards into Lily, causing both to fall onto the floor.  
  
"What, Alice? What's going on?" Lily tried to untangle her robes from the spike on a nearby suit of armor's boot.  
  
But Alice could only gasp and point; a wicked face was now sticking out of the formerly solid wall and grinning down at the two collapsed girls. Lily's mouth fell open and she stopped trying to free herself from the suit of armor.  
  
"Ooh, ickle firsties!" The head's oily voice rang out above them. "Wanting to get to bed, little ones? Let Peevesie help you!" His head disappeared for a second, then returned, followed by his body and a very long rug. He dropped this on top of Lily and Alice, who coughed with the dust that emanated the corridor. The rug settled over Lily and Alice's bodies; the only part of them that was free of its itchiness was their heads. "Just follow the rug, and you'll get to your common room, ickle Gryffies!" He then made a very big show of walking up and down the rug.  
  
"Get - off -" Alice struggled, gasping for breath as 'Peevesie' walked over them. Though clearly a ghost of some kind, he definitely did have substance, Lily realized as she felt a small indentation form in her ribcage where his foot had been.  
  
"What - are -you Idoing/I?" Alice asked, exasperatedly.  
  
The wicked little man, who was now floating in the air, juggling Lily's still-damp astrology book and Alice's sketchbook, made a short gasping, offended noise, and dropped the books. "What am I doing? What am I Idoing/I?? I'm Ihelping/I you get to your common room.I'd've thought you'd noticed! Kids these days.Hopeless, I'm telling you!" His tone changed to be an attempt at sage-like. He blew a very wet raspberry (actually producing one of the fruit) and dove into the suit of armor, clattering around inside for a good few moments. The wall that formed a dead end across the corridor and the rug 'Peevesie' had brought in disappeared in a poof of nasty-smelling, purple dust.  
  
"Ugh!" Lily tried to brush the powder from her clothes, but it appeared that the stuff was attracted to the dampness.  
  
Alice stood up shakily and followed Lily's example, but she had no more luck than the redhead did.  
  
"Come on, let's get to the common room," Lily suggested, bending down to pick up the books. She handed the sketchbook to Alice. "I know that we don't know where it is," she continued when Alice opened her mouth to protest, "but maybe we'll see some Gryffindors on the way.  
  
Alice consented and the two began their walk down the corridor, Lily slightly ahead of the strawberry-blonde. But before she'd gone more than two meters, there was a loud crack and an "Ow!" from behind her. Lily turned around - and nearly walked into the same wall that had been created by Peeves.  
  
"Alice! Alice, where are you?"  
  
"I'm on the other side of this stupid wall," there was a dull thud and another "Ow!" Lily presumed that Alice had kicked the wall in exasperation.  
  
"Hang on," Lily called through; there was something on the tip of her tongue. Then it clicked. The next words that left her mouth were Latin; a spell that Lily had found in the last chapter of one of her schoolbooks. "INusquam substantia/I!"  
  
As though someone had blown up the wall from the inside, thousands of flecks of purple powder covered the corridor. But at least Alice, purple as she was, could now get through. She and Lily laughed about it for a while, then continued on their way. Neither had any clue where they were going, but they were lucky to see the end of a cloak as someone walked around the corner in front of them. Lily sped up.  
  
"Hey! Excuse me, whoever just walked down that corridor? Could you tell us -" Lily stopped speaking quite abruptly. She and Alice had just come into sight of the person she'd seen and he into theirs.  
  
"Ahh!" James Potter gave a huge leap of fright backwards. "It's the flying purple people eaters! Run, Remus, run! Run for your life! The school's being taken over by the figments of overactive muggle imagination! Ahhhhhhhhh." he acted as though he were seeing something truly terrifying. "Remus, why aren't you mov -" James turned back to look at the entirely purple girls.  
  
"Wait.I know that purple people eater! And if she's who I think she is.then that is one purty monster!" He turned and swaggered toward Lily and Alice, mussing his hair and smirking. "Lily, baby, you need to figure out what you are! Having a bit of a character crisis is okay, but I'm getting worried about you! First a butterfly, then a flower, then a fish, and now a muggle monster! Figure it out!" he threw his arm over her shoulder.  
  
All Lily could do was make an indistinct noise in her throat. Inside her mind, she came to one conclusion: this boy was completely off his rocker.  
  
James, however, took Lily's snort to be something else.  
  
"Don't get offended, my sweet little monster! You've been a very Ipretty/I butterfly, flower, fish, and are quite a fine monster, but I think you need to sort things out. I'll leave you to it. But come find me, once you know what you are; I'd be glad to hook up some time!"  
  
He walked away from the two girls, his back facing Remus and his arm waving a princess wave.  
  
Alice burst into laughter as soon as he was out of sight. She wouldn't stop, and probably couldn't stop; she was laughing so hard it looked painful.  
  
"Purple - people - eaters -" she cracked up all over again. Lily dragged her after James and Remus, who had carelessly left a portrait ajar; Lily presumed it led to the Gryffindor common room.  
  
Sure enough, as Lily walked through, she saw a round room filled with cozy chairs and a merrily burning fireplace. No sooner had she shut the door then James called out again:  
  
"Back already? That's great, I love a woman who can make quick decisions, especially when the decisions are the right ones! I was hoping you'd pick the flower - or the fish, your hair looks great when wet - but I'm content with a purple people eater too!" his announcement was met by roars of laughter.  
  
Lily rolled her eyes and stomped up the staircase to the girl's dormitory, though she couldn't help but grin once she was out of everyone's sight.  
  
She continued climbing up the staircase. Doors began to branch off on the sides; each leading to a dormitory, Lily presumed. The doors each bore a plaque that read the year and names of all of its members. Lily continued up and up the staircase, getting more than a few surprised looks when people saw her purpleness. After trying to explain once or twice, Lily gave up and just told them she was a purple people eater. It was easier, and if it didn't frighten people a little it made them laugh. Not all knew the muggle song, but the fact that she was purple seemed to amuse them more than enough.  
  
Finally, Lily came to the end of the staircase and a large, wooden door. Written on the plaque at its front, in indented letters, were the words:  
  
IFirst Years  
  
Lucy Bones  
  
Lily Evans  
  
Alice Surrideo Hana Suzuki Leanna Thompson/I  
  
Lily pushed open the door and stepped inside. The only person in there was a girl in the corner. She was crouching, and shifting back and forth on the balls of her feet. As Lily drew nearer, she heard what sounded like crying from the other side of the girl's raven-colored head.  
  
"Are - are you all right?" Lily asked uncertainly. The girl she was addressing gave a frightened squeak and leapt up.  
  
She was very pretty. Her stick-strait black hair fell down below her waist and very thick lashes framed her almond-shaped eyes. But at the moment, tears were pouring down her face. She looked at Lily fearfully, than stood up and ran past her and onto the stairs. Before Lily could so much as move, the girl was gone.  
  
Lily blinked, startled by the encounter, and stretched languorously. She looked down at her body, nearly having forgotten about her unfortunate, smelly purple self. On the way up the staircase, she'd seen a door marked 'IShowers/I, so she grabbed a hairbrush, some shampoo, and went out the way she'd come in.  
  
The showers were very nice; like the great hall many floors below, they portrayed the sky outside. A very simple swimming pool was in the center and the walls were lined with little cubicles, each containing a shower. The only unfortunate aspect of the room was the fact that it smelled Ivery/I strongly of some type of cleaning solution.  
  
Wisely coming to the conclusion that people wouldn't want smelly purple dust all over the swimming pool, Lily chose a shower instead.  
  
The purple redhead closed the curtain and turned on the water, still in her clothes, for they were just as purple as her skin. She stood there happily, glad for shower's warmth; she was still damp from the swimming fiasco. For a good five minutes, the only water that came out of Lily's shower was an incredibly bright purple. After the streaming purple water had ceased, Lily stripped down and took a proper shower. When she'd finished, she hung her wet clothes out to dry on a rack that was probably meant for towels.  
  
Feeling clean, warm, and more tired than she'd ever imagined was possible, Lily turned back upstairs and slipped into her dorm. There was no one there, so Lily changed and climbed into bed. She'd been intending to wait up for Lucy and Alice, but she was fast asleep before her head hit the pillow. 


End file.
